


Third Time's the Charm

by nerakrose



Series: datenights in the stitching ward [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adulthood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Art Student Steve, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexuality, Canon Disabled Character, Cute, Depressed Steve Rogers, F/M, Fluff, Just Get Married Already, M/M, Mechanic Bucky Barnes, Polyamorous Character, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slice of Life, Tattoo Artist Steve Rogers, an abundance of babies, and marriages, as in steve never gets the serum because there is no serum, fluff to angst rate is 15 to 1, hard of hearing clint, hard of hearing steve, past trauma, steve is a lil hipster, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3506951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/pseuds/nerakrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All their friends are getting married and having babies, and Steve is graduating college. Adult life is weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Time's the Charm

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, all my thanks and love to my wonderful betas, [palavapeite](http://archiveofourown.org/users/palavapeite/pseuds/palavapeite) and [mrs_jack_turner](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_jack_turner/pseuds/mrs_jack_turner). They are the best friends and betas one could ask for. ♥ ♥ ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Sorry about the delay in getting this third and final part out! Life got me by the balls and twisted, hard. Thank you for the patience. ♥
> 
> I made a playlist with most of the songs I listened to as I was writing this series, so for whose who are into that sort of thing - you can find the playlist [here](http://8tracks.com/nerakrose/imaginary-heroes).
> 
> Trigger warnings in the end notes. Please check them out before reading the fic.

Natasha let herself in quietly, but Bucky - who'd been sort of lying in wait, though he wouldn't admit it - heard her anyway.

"Steve? That you?" he called out from the bathroom.

"Just me," Natasha called back.

"Oh." Bucky exited the bathroom, overflowing laundry hamper in his arms. "Hi, Nat."

"Isn't that a warm welcome," Natasha said dryly, kicking her shoes off.

"There's dinner on the stove," Bucky told her. "Did you see Steve? He said he'd be at the school today."

"He's still there," Natasha told him. "He's finishing the mural on the third floor."

Bucky tried very hard not to make a disappointed noise.

"Do me a favour and grab my laundry as well? I'm going to Bobbi's after I've showered. We've got stuff to finalise."

"Do your own laundry," Bucky said sullenly.

"Please?" Natasha came over to kiss his cheek. "Pretty please?" She made eyes at him.

"I will when you return my boyfriend," Bucky said. "I haven't seen him in five days, you know!"

"The grand opening is in three weeks," Natasha reminded him. "There's a lot of work left to do, and your man is behind schedule -"

"Because he was in hospital!" 

"That's not my fault." Natasha sighed. "I _told_ him it'd be cool if he didn't finish before the opening, you know. I _told_ him that so long as the lobby and the first floor was done, then it'd be okay. Do you know what he said?"

Bucky glared at her, but then relented. "He said that he takes his work very seriously and that he's going to finish on time even if it kills him, because 'damn me if I'm going to be one of _those_ sorts'," he recited.

"Exactly." Natasha patted his shoulder. "Laundry?"

"Fine, I'll do your laundry," he grumbled. "But if you don't take your cat out of it, I'm laundering that too."

Natasha went into the bathroom and then came back with the laundry hamper in one hand and the cat in the other. "You're a darling."

Bucky had done three loads of laundry, seen the entirety of Stephen Hawking's Universe on Netflix, ventured into Natasha's bedroom to close the window before her room flooded with sleet and snow and rain, and checked his phone a billion times for any replies from Steve, when Steve himself showed up.

Soaked to the bone and shivering.

"Jesus, Steve, are you out of your mind?" Bucky said, helping him out of leathers. Steve's fingers were blue. "I can't believe you drove here in this weather. Are you _trying_ to get sick again? Or get yourself killed? Jesus, Steve, you only just got out of hospital!" 

"Don't," Steve said.

"You're fucking unbelievable, you're only wearing a t-shirt under -"

"Don't," Steve repeated, voice sharp and cold. He pushed Bucky away. "Don't fucking patronise me. I'm gonna take a shower," he added, and stormed into the bathroom.

Bucky rubbed his face. "Great," he muttered. He picked up Steve's sodden leathers and tried to wring them out over the kitchen sink. Eventually he gave up and took them down to the basement to dry out in the laundry room.

He found Steve a pair of pyjama bottoms and t-shirt, then dug out a pair of boxers from the clean laundry he hadn't put away yet. Then he snuck into the bathroom and left the clothes for Steve on the counter.

When Steve came out, rosy cheeked and dressed in the clothes Bucky had left for him, there was hot stew on the stove and Natasha's cat was rubbing herself against Bucky's leg and meowing pathetically.

"I heated some dinner for you," Bucky said. To Steve, not the cat. "Thought you might be hungry."

Steve didn't answer and only reached past Bucky to grab a bowl from the cupboard. Bucky saw he hadn't put his hearing aids back on after his shower, which meant that either he was still pissed off or that they'd gotten wet and had stopped working. Probably not the latter, Steve was usually careful about those things - well, apart from that one time shortly before the winter break, but that'd been an accident. Steve served himself up some stew and went to sit. He blew on the spoon before each bite.

"Steve?"

No answer. Bucky sat opposite him, then tried again.

"Hey," he said. "Steve?" He tapped the table in front of Steve, just inside his field of vision.

Steve looked up.

"I'm sorry," Bucky said. "It's just…" he trailed off. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Steve looked down again, stirring the stew.

"So…" Bucky waited for Steve to look at him again. "Are you still mad at me?" 

"No." Steve sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I want some quiet. I've been listening to drilling all day." He held up the spoon. "This is good stuff. Did Natasha make it?"

"No, I did. But it's Natasha's recipe," Bucky answered. "Knowing her, it's either a family recipe from the depths of Russia or something she found online."

Steve nodded, clearly not even trying to listen or read Bucky's lips. He smiled. "Wanna go set up in the bedroom? Something simple with subtitles."

"Set up." Bucky shook his head. "You make it sound like we have a home cinema in there or something. It's a tablet."

"Imagination is key," Steve said, tapping his temple. 

"Yeah, okay."

Steve returned his attention to the stew and Bucky went and got ready for bed. He located the tablet and put it on the nightstand, then fluffed up the pillows and changed into a pair of ratty pyjamas. Steve joined him in the bathroom and they brushed their teeth together.

"Toothpaste kiss," Bucky said, grinning frothily at Steve.

"No idea what you're saying." Steve nodded towards where he'd left his hearing aids on a shelf. He spat in the sink. "Are you asking for a kiss?"

Bucky pursed his lips and made smooching sounds.

"I think you're the only person I know who likes toothpaste kisses," Steve said. "Come here." He turned his head up and Bucky swooped in to kiss him square on the mouth.

"They're tingly," he said as he pulled away, still grinning.

"Huh?"

Bucky quickly washed the foam off his face and dried off with a hand towel. "Toothpaste kisses are tingly," he repeated. "It's fun."

"They're tingly?" Steve took the hand towel from him and dried his own face. "That's it?"

"Yeah." Bucky shrugged. "You know."

"I don't think I do, but okay. Come on. Bed?"

"Mmmh." 

They settled in, shoulder to shoulder, and Bucky flipped the tablet open. He put on a documentary about the Mars rovers as it was next in his queue, and turned the subtitles on.

Five minutes into the documentary, Bucky turned to speak into Steve's ear. "I'm really glad to see you, you know."

Steve turned to face him, which made their noses rub together. "I missed you. I didn't want to wait until the weekend." He leaned in for a brief kiss, then settled back to pay attention to the documentary again.

Bucky regarded him. "The weekend starts tomorrow afternoon," he said, leaning a little closer to Steve's ear. 

"I know. Still didn't want to wait."

"I'm meeting Becky tomorrow for dinner. Want to come?"

Steve shook his head. "I'm working at the school and then I have a meeting with Nat and Bobbi. Nat promised take out." He wrapped his fingers around Bucky's wrist. "Come stay the weekend at my place?"

"You've got it off?" Bucky laced their fingers together.

"Not really. Got to go to the shop for a few hours on Saturday."

"Okay." Bucky nosed his ear, then finally turned his attention back to the documentary. He'd missed the part where they explained the navigation system.

Not ten minutes later, Steve was asleep. Bucky carefully removed his glasses and put them away.

***

"Steeeeve," Bucky whined, mouth pressed against Steve's ear. He tangled their legs together. "Your roommates are unholy people."

"Probably," Steve mumbled. "Right now _you're_ unholy. I was sleepin'." 

"It's Sunday," Bucky said. "And it's seven in the morning. And I can smell _bacon_."

"Bacon isn't unholy," Steve said, pulling Bucky's arm closer around him. "Shut up or I'll kick you out of bed."

Bucky grumbled but contented himself with nuzzling Steve and pretending to sleep. He lasted five minutes. "Steve," he tried again. "We should go steal all of Sam's bacon."

"I'm ignoring you."

"Aren't you hungry? Just a bit?" Bucky said. "I'm sure there are pancakes too." That last part was delivered louder to make sure Steve really heard him. "Pancakes," he repeated.

"You don't know if there are pancakes. You're just saying that to make me go with you."

"There could be pancakes. You don't know until you check," Bucky argued. "Wouldn't it be horrible if there are pancakes but they are all gone, or worse, _cold_ when you finally decide to get out of bed?"

"I like cold pancakes," Steve informed him. "They're really great with chocolate syrup."

"You're a heathen," Bucky told him. "And we're awake. Food."

"I'm not awake, you are. I'm just pretending."

Bucky bit his earlobe. "At which point does sleep overrule food? The answer is never."

"Ugh," Steve said. "You win. Hand me my things." He gestured and Bucky extracted himself to turn on the lights and fetch Steve his glasses and hearing aids.

Steve made exaggerated sounds of pain in reaction to the light so Bucky smothered him with sloppy, wet kisses until Steve pushed him away.

"Let's get you some coffee," Bucky said and groped his ass. "Put your ears on."

They got dressed and after a brief stop in the bathroom, made their way to the kitchen.

"It's never going to be the right time," Riley argued. "Now is as good a time as any, and if we want to use my eggs it has to be this year."

"My sister literally just had a baby," Sam argued back.

"Good morning," Bucky said. "I'm wondering what your sister's baby has to do with breakfast eggs."

Sam and Riley turned to look at them. 

"Not breakfast eggs," Riley said, amused.

"What are you doing up this early?" Sam asked. "It's still dark out."

"Bacon," Steve explained, pouring himself coffee. He leaned against the counter, cradling the mug and blowing on the surface. "Babies?"

Bucky slid into his usual seat in the nook, surveying the table. He was happy to find Riley - or Sam, more likely - had had the forethought to not only make lots of food, but also decked the table for four. "I'm confused."

"Babies," Sam said. "As in, ours. Eventually."

"As in this year, hopefully," Riley corrected.

"Ohhh there _are_ pancakes," Steve said, having finally given the table a look, and joined Bucky. He pulled the plate of pancakes over. 

Bucky frowned, eyeing the plate of pancakes as it slid over the table towards Steve. Then he looked at Sam and Riley. "Babies," he said. "That's a...thing?"

Sam facepalmed.

"I'm pretty sure babies have been a thing since the dawn of time, Buck," Steve said. He handed Bucky the plate of bacon in a not so subtle hint for him to shut up. "So, how're you gonna do it?"

"Well, that's just it," Riley said. "We can't agree."

"We _agree_ , I'm just saying now isn't really the best time," Sam said, giving Riley a frustrated look.

"If we don't do it now, saving my eggs will have been completely pointless," Riley said. "And I _want_ to use them. It was painful enough extracting them, you know. I'm not gonna let that go to waste. And I only got storage until the end of the year."

"You know, Sam, that gives you nearly twelve months to work this out," Bucky said. "Not that I'm taking sides or anything. Just saying."

Steve elbowed him.

"I _know_ Sarah just had a baby," Riley said to Sam, keeping his voice gentle, "but my sister offered too, you know. She's already had kids so she knows what she's in for, and she's still young enough that she can carry another without it being a health risk or a low-chance-of-success risk."

Sam drew in a deep breath. "I don't suppose we can have that storage extended for another year?"

"We don't have the money," Riley told him, sounding for all in the world like he'd said this a million times already. "My dad's inheritance only paid for fifteen years."

"How many eggs do you have?" 

"Enough for eight to ten IVF treatments, they said," Riley said. "But because of the hormone treatments and everything, a woman can only have about three or four IVF treatments a year…"

"And what if none of them work? And if we can't find the money to continue storage?"

"Then we'll at least have tried," Riley said. "We can look into other options then. I don't mind adopting, you know. Or using donor eggs." He shrugged. "I just think that because we have the option to actually have kids that would be genetically mine as well as yours, we should take that chance before it's too late."

"You're right. Of course you're right," Sam said, letting out an exhilarated breath. "This is crazy, you know that? Crazier than when I joined the army."

"Yes, babies are crazy," Bucky said.

Sam and Riley turned to look at him.

"Just reminding you guys that we're still here," Bucky said, shrugging nonchalantly. He stole a sip of coffee from Steve's mug. 

"Subtle," Steve said. 

"Assholes," Sam said.

Riley laughed, then cleared his throat. "Okay, so," he said, pointing his fork at Bucky. "You don't look particularly surprised. Did Steve tell you?"

Steve startled. "I would never!"

"Yeah dude, no," Bucky said, holding up his hands in defence. "You keep your T in the bathroom cupboard. Right next to the q-tips and the spare toothbrushes."

"Right," Riley said, slowly. "Why'd you think it was mine?"

"It had your name on it."

Riley blinked and Sam cracked up next to him.

"Seriously," Bucky said.

"Nothing gave you away," Steve told Riley. "You're fine."

"Yeah, well," Riley said. "Don't go shouting it from the rooftops, yeah? It's not safe," he added, by way of explanation.

"Yeah of course not. I mean, I won't tell." Bucky peered at him. "We're not going to have a moment, are we? Because I never have anything insightful or smart to say to coming-outs of any sort. There was that one time I said 'cool, me too' except the person I was talking to was coming out as a lesbian. I can tell you 'congrats on yourself' if you like."

Riley snorted. "Asshole."

Steve elbowed Bucky again. 

"Eat your pancakes or something," Sam said.

***

"I made five variations of the final design," Loki said, opening a white binder labelled "SUPER COOL VTG ROBOT ARM". Bucky's name was scribbled just under the title. "Two of them are exact to what we spoke about last time, and the other three are also more or less exact to what you want except with more _me_."

Bucky pulled the folder closer to look. "This the first one?"

"Mmh." These two are the designs according to your descriptions. The difference is in the colouring and the thickness of the lines. And here, the design around the elbow is slightly different, see? Like I said, the ink will rub off your elbow with time, so to speak, and this design here would look neater with that sort of natural fade unless you want to come in and have it touched up regularly."

"I like it," Bucky said. "It looks cool."

"I thought you would. Now these three..." Loki turned the page. "This one is the same as number two, but I changed the position of the star." He reached up to point at Bucky's shoulder. "There, to be exact. It sits a little higher and follows the natural curve of your shoulder, giving it a rounded look," he explained. "It's not necessarily better than the original placement, but I think it looks ace."

Bucky blinked, then turned the drawing sideways, then the other way. "I'm not sure about it..."

"The other two have the star in the same place, but I changed some of the edges of the plating. One has the star bigger. They all have the elbow adjustment." Loki took the drawings out of their sleeves and spread them on the table, so they were lined up side by side. "I can still make adjustments," he said. "We're not inking until you're sure."

"But we're booked for the first session today," Bucky said. "I thought we were starting today."

"Yes, but if we need to make big changes to the design, we can't start today," Loki explained. "I'll need time to finish the design before we can start."

"Fair enough." Bucky looked over the designs again. He pulled two out of the lineup and set them aside, then pushed the remaining three together. After a while, he changed the order they were in. "This one," he said eventually, pointing at the design in the middle. "It's closest to what I want."

"Closest?" Loki almost looked affronted. "What kind of changes are you -"

"No changes," Bucky said, picking the drawing up and giving it to Loki. "I like it. I like the bigger star. It looks perfect like this."

Loki took the drawing. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Bucky grinned. "I'm pretty sure."

"All right. Sit down and take your shirt off. I'll go prep the transfer paper." He picked up the folder and the drawings and walked off with them.

Bucky sat down. Steve was at the next work station, tattooing a woman's ankle. He watched him for a while; from where he was sitting all he could see was the back of Steve's head and the line of his shoulders (those were really nice shoulders). Bucky watched him until he noticed Loki coming back with a bunch of sheets of transfer paper with purple ink on it.

He pulled his jumper off. "Can I keep my tank on?" he asked. "It's a little chilly."

Loki glanced at him. "You'll probably get ink on it when we do your shoulder bit," he said. "It doesn't wash off."

"I'm okay with that." Bucky folded up his jumper.

"All right." Loki sat on his stool and rolled it forwards, then adjusted the height. "Sit still while I transfer this over. We need it to line up with the lines you've already got, and then we need to line the rest of the design up with that." He smiled happily, holding up the sheet with the part for the top of the upper arm.

"Yeah, okay." Bucky watched him work, trying not to crane his neck and move when he did the back of his arm and shoulder.

The final part went on wrong and Loki swore up and down and then cleaned the wonky part off with some alcohol, and went to print out a new piece.

Steve had let the woman he was tattooing have a break to stretch her legs, so he came over to look. "Looking good already," he said with a smile. 

"Thanks," Loki said, having just returned with the new part. "If you hold your arm just so - yes, thank you," he said, carefully lining the sheet up with the rest of the design. He pressed it to Bucky's skin and then peeled it off again delicately. This part lined up just the way it was supposed to. "Perfect. Now I want you to go stand in front of that mirror over there and see if it looks all right to you. If everything's good, we'll proceed."

Bucky hopped off the bench and went to check it out. He twisted and turned and looked at his arm every which way he could, inspecting the lines of the new design. He could see the old lines just under the purple ink, and the star was dead center in the round of his shoulder. The scar from when Rumlow stabbed him was just below it, thick and ugly. Some of the fuzzy edges from his burns and skin grafts followed the lines of the design, though most of them were uneven. It looked a little like a child had tried to colour something and had coloured outside the lines.

It looked pretty awesome. Bucky's stomach did a little flip. 

"It's great," he said, turning around with a grin. He looked at his arm again, then went to sit. "Let's get started."

Loki gave him a pleased smile and put a pair of latex gloves on. "This is going to hurt more than a regular tattoo because of all this scarring you've got. If it gets too much, say the word and we'll take a break."

"Yep," Bucky said. "Although I'm pretty sure it won't be half as bad as when this happened to me. I can handle it." He grinned up at Steve, who'd been watching him all the while.

"Just say the word and we'll take a break," Loki repeated. "Lean over there - like that, yes. I want to start with the back of your shoulder. Ready?"

"Yes."

"I'll talk to you on my next break," Steve told Bucky, and went back to his own workstation. The woman he was tattooing had come back.

Loki, like Steve, wasn't a talker when he was working, so Bucky spent most of the time either watching Steve or looking out the window and trying not to think too hard about the pain. He was glad for the distraction when Sif came over for a chat after finishing with a customer.

When Steve finished the woman's ankle tattoo, Bucky jumped at the chance for a break. Loki stretched his hand and pulled off the gloves, glad for the break as well.

"Steve, we should go make out in the break room."

"I'm about to have lunch in the break room," Sif told him. "There will be lunch in the break room and nothing else."

"Lunch sounds like a great idea," Steve said, but he did give Bucky a brief peck on the lips. "Do you have any plans for tonight, by the way?"

"Not specific ones," Bucky answered. "My plans were mostly to take you out for dinner and then take you home. Into my bed home, not leave you on the doorstep with a kiss home."

Steve smiled. "Well, Peggy texted me. She invited us to join her for a poetry slam event at her favourite bar; she wants to introduce me to her new boyfriend," he said. "Although she says it's someone we both know, so she says you should definitely come along."

"Tonight?"

"Mmh."

"Does this place do food?"

"Good food, actually."

"Okay. Should be fun." Bucky nodded, then winced. He glanced at his arm. "Can we make out just a little bit and _then_ have lunch?"

Steve glanced around the shop. The only customer currently in it was Bucky, and Loki and Sif had already retreated to the back room. Thor was behind the counter, talking to somebody on the phone, and judging by the look on his face it was Jane he was talking to.

"Okay," Steve agreed, moving to slot in between Bucky's legs. "Come here, then." He tilted Bucky's chin up and leaned down for a kiss. 

Bucky unashamedly groped Steve's ass. 

Five hours later all the outlining and joints had been completed, and two of the shoulder plates had been filled in. The shop was closing, Loki's hand was sore and Bucky had reached his limits for pain endurance, so they called it a day, bandaged up the arm and left to meet Peggy and her new beau. 

It turned out to be Gabe Jones. 

"Steve! I'm so glad you could make it," Peggy said, rising out of her chair to give him a hug. She was almost a foot taller than Steve, but she was wearing heels today so she was the whole foot and then some.

"Hey, boss," Bucky said, and Gabe punched him in the arm. "You didn't even tell us you had a lady. And you call yourself our friend." 

"Lady's insistence," Gabe said. "We're making it Facebook official today." 

"Cool. Hey, Peggy," Bucky said, giving her a brief hug now that she'd let go of Steve. "Congrats on bagging that one." 

She smiled. "Hard fish to catch, am I right?" 

"Not that hard," Gabe protested. "You didn't even do the catching. I was the one chasing you all over Brooklyn and half of Queens before you'd go out with me."

"And Harlem, that one time."

"And Harlem," Gabe agreed. 

"What were you doing in Harlem?" Steve asked. They all sat back down around the table, Steve angling himself so he could see the stage as well as all three of them.

"Poetry," Peggy answered. "And also I was working. Top secret stuff." 

"Mmmh." Steve nodded, eyebrow raised. He picked up the menu and opened it, sliding it over so it sat between him and Bucky. "Did you accept the new job or are you still with the CIA?"

"Well…" She gave Steve a self-satisfied smile. "I've gotten two more offers. I haven't decided yet."

Gabe was grinning like he'd personally had a hand in any of Peggy's career. He hadn't, unless the garage was a cover. (It couldn't be. Bucky would've known. Right?)

"Let's get some food on this table and I'll tell you all about it," she said. "We have a good hour before the poetry slam starts." At this she gave Gabe a fond look.

"Oh! Are you reading?" Steve asked Gabe.

"Not tonight, no," he answered. "Maybe another time." 

They ordered a load of different snack platters to share between the four of them.

"All right, so," Peggy said, leaning a little closer. "Interpol, GCHQ and NSA all want me," she told them. "If I say yes to Interpol I'll have to move to France. GCHQ, I could stay here, but would have to travel to London a few times every year. Now, NSA and GCHQ are basically the same job, they're both signal intelligence positions. The Interpol job sounds plain boring and has little to do with what I do and what I want to actually do, but it's a higher up position than the other two. All three positions are better than what I've currently got, though I suspect CIA pays a little more for my current job than GCHQ would for the new one."

Bucky eyed her suspiciously. "Are you even allowed to tell us this?" 

"I'm not a secret secret agent," she said. "Although I can't tell you what my security clearance is."

"Yes, don't tell me. I don't want to die." He shook his head. "Anyway, that all sounds awesome." 

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "So you're taking the GCHQ job, aren't you?" 

"I haven't decided," she answered, giving him a speculative look. "What makes you think I'll pick that one?" 

"Call it a hunch," Steve said, then grinned. "Besides, you get to go back home on their dime if you take the job."

"It's a big plus on that account," Peggy admitted. "Well, I know I'm not taking the Interpol job. Even if Lyon is really nice." 

The conversation drifted off to other topics, including Natasha and Bobbi's school and the big restauration job Bucky was currently working on at the garage. At one point, Bucky showed them the tattoo-in-progress. 

The poetry slam was good, but the food was better.

***

Bucky was on his knees on the bathroom, just finishing up scrubbing the entire place from top to bottom, when he heard somebody let themselves into the flat.

"Steve?" he called out. There was no answer, so it was probably Steve. Bucky worked a little faster, sweeping up the water with the floor cloth, then wringing it out into the bucket as fast as he could. 

"Bucky, hey," Steve said, appearing in the door to the bathroom. "I thought you called." 

"Yeah. Hey," Bucky said, looking over. "Give me a sec, I'm almost done." He emptied the bucket into the toilet, then set it back into the cupboard. The floor cloth went into the laundry hamper. Then he ran his hands under the tap and scrubbed them clean.

"Were you bored or was the bathroom just really filthy?" Steve asked.

"A bit of both," Bucky answered and dried his hands. "Now come here." He stepped up to pull Steve into a big kiss. "I haven't seen you in forever." 

"You saw me the weekend before last," Steve said and kissed him again. "How's your arm?" 

"My arm's fine, tat's all healed up. It missed you just as much as the rest of me did," Bucky told him.

Steve smiled. "Well, come out of the bathroom for a minute and I'll show you what I brought." He gave Bucky another kiss, then tugged on his hand. 

"I smell food," Bucky said, following Steve to the kitchen. " _You brought food_. I love you. I'm starving -" 

"I finished my work at the school today, with a few days to spare, even," Steve told him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "So I brought you dinner because you've put up with me and my crazy schedule for the past four weeks."

Steve had taken care to take the food out of their containers and onto plates and he'd even lit a candle - Bucky had a vague recollection of Natasha buying it a couple of years ago for Christmas and that having been the extent of their holiday decorating that year - where had Steve even found the thing, jesus - and there were flowers. In a vase. The flowers looked a lot like they'd been manhandled into a motorcycle saddle bag, driven across Brooklyn and then pulled back out. Bucky knew the look.

"Steve, did you bring me flowers?" Bucky asked, trying to hide his glee and absolutely failing.

"I also brought you flowers," Steve admitted. "These aren't as broken as the ones you got last time. I tried to be careful." 

"Are you kidding, I love your broken flowers," Bucky told him. He picked a crushed-looking daisy out of the bouquet, then broke the rest of the stem off at the bent part. He put the daisy behind Steve's ear and then pulled Steve close for a kiss. "Thank you."

"The food will get cold," Steve told him, but slid his arms around Bucky's waist anyway. "And I'm just as hungry as you are." 

"Mhmm, I know," Bucky said and kissed him again. 

Steve made a noise.

"Okay, okay. Food," Bucky said, releasing him.

The food hadn't gone as cold as Steve had feared, thanks to styrofoam and insulated bags. He kept the daisy behind his ear the rest of the evening.

Natasha's cat got leftovers for dinner.

"I'm staying here until after the grand opening. Or, like, a whole week," Steve told Bucky, burrowing a little closer under the covers. "Sam and Riley are all about babies at the moment and it's driving me a little crazy."

"They get started yet?" 

"Next week, I think." Steve frowned. "Something like that." 

"Should we have that talk?" Bucky pulled the covers up a little higher, starting to get a little cold.

"What, the baby talk?" Steve got up on his elbow. The daisy had fallen off and was no doubt crushed somewhere in the sheets. "I don't know. I wasn't really gearing up for that sort of talk." 

"I think we should talk about it." He rolled onto his side so he was facing Steve, and put his hand on his hip. 

Steve lowered himself down again, tangling their legs together. "I suppose. Well, okay. How do we talk about it?" 

"I don't know." Bucky shrugged. "I suppose we just say whatever?"

"I suppose."

They were quiet.

"Ok so," Bucky said, breaking the silence. "Want me to go first?"

"Yeah, go ahead." Steve's hand found Bucky's arm under the covers and he let his fingers trail over the contours of it.

"Well…" Bucky frowned, thinking. "I was never planning on having kids," he said. "I always figured that it'd depend on whoever I was with. Like, if I married a woman and she wanted kids, I always reckoned sure I'd go for it. And if I married a guy and he didn't want kids, I also reckoned that was fine. Or the other way around, I guess." He furrowed his brow. "It's not that I don't want them? I think? I just…I wouldn't do it unless the other person really, really wants kids and it'd make them happy, I think...does that make sense?"

"I understand," Steve said. His fingers curled around Bucky's arm. 

"I think I wouldn't mind kids, but I'm just as happy without, I think. I don't need them, but… I wouldn't say no. I think." Bucky shrugged. "I know how to change diapers, anyhow."

Steve smiled. "I decided I wasn't going to have kids when I was a teenager." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I...most of my stuff is hereditary, you know? I didn't really want to pass my genes on to a poor kid because I was selfish enough to want one." Steve shrugged. "I was fourteen. I was pretty bitter about it all back then."

"I think I understand," Bucky said, slowly. "So, you think differently now?" 

"Kinda. I had a pretty shitty time of it when I was a kid. I wouldn't want that for anyone, because of something they were born with and can't control, you know? And it does super suck. Sometimes I feel like I've spent more time inside a hospital than outside one...not to mention the expenses." Steve sighed. "But I have toyed with the idea of being a dad."

"How do you like that idea?" 

Steve shuffled closer, until he was pressed against Bucky. They were still a little sticky. "I'm not sure. I can't shake the thought that I'd pass on all my health problems. Did I tell you I had my first heart surgery when I was a year and a half old?" 

"No, you didn't." Bucky squeezed his hip. "That's… okay, I admit that's all sorts of terrifying." 

"Yeah. It is." 

"So, no kids for you?" 

"I don't know. Maybe." Steve huffed. "I can't decide. Maybe if the kids don't get any of my genes. Like, okay, let's pretend you and I decide we want a couple of kids? So how would we do it? Adopt maybe, that's cool. But say we get a surrogate, then we would use your jizz and the kids would turn out fine, right?"

"I don't think that's how it works," Bucky argued. "Your parents were healthy, right?"

"Yeah," Steve admitted. "Except for my mum, she was hard of hearing too." 

"So you never really know," Bucky said. "So say we decide to do it, we could do the thing where we mix it up, like, we both jizz in the same bottle and hand that over."

"Yeah…" Steve sighed. "I suppose. I don't know. It's not like we have to decide now, right? I'm not sure I'm really up for the whole parenting thing." 

"That's exactly why we're having this talk," Bucky pointed out. "The way I see it we're more or less on the same page, right? You're not really sure, I'm not really sure, right?" 

"Yeah." Steve nodded. 

"So, if you come to me in, I don't know, three years maybe and tell me 'Hey, Buck, I'd really like to have kids some day and I want to have them with you, can we look into options?' I'll probably say 'I fucking love you, Steve, we're leaving for the clinic in five seconds. Get packed'." 

Steve laughed. "And what if I say 'so, let's not do the kids thing at all'?"

"Well, in that case I'll probably tell you 'fantastic, let's go have sex on the dinner table' or something stupid like that," Bucky said with a grin. "I'm okay with either option. I don't need to have kids, but if you would like them, I would love them just as much, you know?"

"Yeah." Steve exhaled. "Yeah, I… okay, then."

"Okay what?" Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. "Okay we're having kids?"

"No, Jesus no," Steve said. "I meant 'Okay, that's a good plan'. Keep our options open and all that. No kids for now. Nope." 

"Oh, good. The point of this wasn't to convince you to go all wannabe dad on me," Bucky told him.

Steve punched him lightly on the shoulder. "No more baby talk. I'm banning it. It'll make me crazy. Have you talked to Sam lately? Last night he was showing me brochures with baby strollers for ages two and up and wanted my input on what would be the best choice. _For ages two and up_. They haven't even started the IVF treatments yet, Jesus fucking Christ."

Bucky laughed. "So stay with me in the babyfree zone," he said, leaning in to kiss him.

"Plan." Steve kissed him back, rubbing against him lightly. "You don't have the early shift tomorrow, do you?" 

"I do," Bucky said. "Why, you wanna stay up all night doing this?" He let his hand move from Steve's hip to his ass. 

"I was hoping you'd be up for another round."

"Totally. I'm up for all the rounds. But you said you'd drop me off at work in the morning." 

"Ugh," Steve said. "I forgot. I wanted to sleep in." 

"Want to pick me up too?" 

"I might still be at the shop," Steve said. "I'll text you about it tomorrow. Can I stick my dick in you now?" 

"Yeah, you can," Bucky told him, rolling onto his back and taking Steve with him.

***

Steve was fidgeting, which was unusual.

"Are you _nervous_?" Bucky asked him as he took his jacket and then unrepentantly ogled Steve's ass as he bent down to roll off the bike leathers.

"A little," Steve admitted. "I invited a bunch of people from art school and such, and, uhm, some people I'm hoping to impress enough to hire me." He got the leathers off completely, and then stepped into his nice, polished shoes. "Do I look all right?"

"You look brilliant," Bucky told him. "No wrinkles anywhere."

"Good." Steve breathed out. "It's my first big paid project, you know." 

"I know." Bucky gave him a kiss. "Why don't you show me all the awesome paintings that you've painted and introduce me to your cool artist friends and I'll keep you in steady supply of champagne?"

"I'm driving home," Steve said, taking his glasses off briefly to rub his eyes. "No champagne."

"Or, we could have champagne and take a cab home and come back tomorrow to pick up the bike," Bucky suggested. "It's your first big paid project. Live a little and celebrate. _Champagne_."

Steve gave him a look that said he wasn't about to relent, but Bucky just continued giving him what he called his Winning Over Steve Smile, because it usually worked that way.

"Okay," Steve said, sighing just a little. He smiled ruefully, shaking his head at Bucky. "Don't let me get too drunk. I want to make a good impression."

"We can do that." Bucky stole a kiss from Steve, before he ushered him out of Natasha and Bobbi's office and into the foyer. People were still arriving, some of them looking a little windswept.

"Speeches at seven, first kiddie show at eight, second kiddie show at eight thirty," Steve muttered to himself. "And lots of mingling. And dancing, I think?"

"You'll be fine," Bucky told him. "And you've got a full fifteen minutes before the speeches start. When are you on?"

"I'm on second, so about ten past," Steve answered. "Bobbi is on first, she'll do the whole intro thing and introduce me, and then I'm on, and Natasha after that and then Danny, I think."

"At which part do we do the thing where we look at your paintings?"

"After the speeches. Though we won't be going up to all of the floors," he pointed out. "We're sticking to the ground floor with the large ballroom. Oh, the ballroom turned out really well! I can't wait for you to see it. I think you'll like it." Steve steered him towards the open doors at the end of the foyer; there were already people within and more were arriving. 

The ballroom was indeed beautiful. "How long did that take you?" Bucky asked, looking around. The room was mirrored, though not completely, and Bucky could recognise Steve's hand in the paintings between each mirror. The ceiling was the real masterpiece, however.

"Forever," Steve sighed, but he looked happy. "I had some of Nat's girls pose for me for reference. They were amazing." 

"It's beautiful," Bucky said, squeezing Steve's hand. 

Steve blushed a little. "Thanks." He grinned and looked up at Bucky, eyes dark in the soft light. 

"I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?" 

"Later," Steve promised, then froze. "Uh," he said, now flushing completely. Bucky followed his line of sight, noticing two rather stunning women at the end of the room, speaking to Natasha. He recognised one of them as Jess, but wasn't quite sure who the other was. Possibly Jess' wife.

"Ohhh," Bucky said, gleefully, when he realised what was up. "You have a crush!"

"Do not," Steve said, but he was squeezing Bucky's hand really hard. 

"You totally do, I know that look. Which one is it?"

Steve made a noise. "It's embarrassing."

Bucky regarded the women. "No, I don't think so. They're totally hot. So which one is it? Jess? The brunette? You totally have a type, you know."

"I do not!" Steve protested, but Bucky only raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I do, but it's got nothing to do with hair colour." He gestured. "It's. Uhm. _Both_ of them. Carol _and_ Jess. For the record? Carol used to be in the air force, then the CIA and now she's with the FBI, so she's totally terrifying. Peggy knows her. And you know how Jess used to be with...I don't remember, probably CIA? I don't know, but she teaches here full time these days and could kill me with her pinkie or something, so. But you know that. I'm rambling, I need to shut up."

"I see why you'd like them." Bucky squeezed Steve's hand, ignoring his rambling. "Although they don't look very intimidating from here."

"They're also _married_ ," Steve continued, now sounding utterly miserable. "To _each other_."

"Chin up," Bucky said and pulled Steve into a half-squeeze. "And introduce me."

"I can't," Steve muttered. His cheeks were still red. "I get all, like, I can't talk around Carol and I only met her like four times - she picks up Jess sometimes - and I think Jess _knows_ which is awful and can we go over there instead?" He gestured at the bar that'd been set up to the side. 

Bucky eyed him critically. "Is it time for us to have _that_ discussion? The one you've been pointedly avoiding for most of our relationship?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Steve took off towards the bar and Bucky hurriedly followed him. "Champagne, please," he told the bartender, and handed Bucky a flute when he'd caught up.

"You're doing it again," Bucky pointed out, but accepted the flute. 

Steve downed his entire flute of champagne and held his hand out for another. "Now is not the time for that discussion," he said, looking very much like he'd also like to down his second flute of champagne in one go. 

"Maybe not, but I still think we should talk about it," Bucky argued. "I mean, if you want to have a go at dating a few other people, that's something we need to work out -"

"It's not going to happen so there's nothing to discuss!"

Bucky abruptly closed his mouth, then took a small sip of his champagne, eyeing Steve. Steve, whose cheeks were mottled and whose breaths were coming in a little shallow. "All right," he said. "We won't talk about it now."

"Thank you," Steve said, voice shaking a little. "But I'm _not_ having this discussion, so can you please just forget all about it?"

"Okay." Bucky nodded towards Carol and Jess, who were still talking to Natasha. "But what about them?"

"Crushes," Steve admitted, with a small sigh. "Very nice crushes, actually. That's all. _Just_ crushes."

"Introduce me," Bucky said, prodding him. "Come on."

"Speeches are about to start," Steve said, but he grabbed Bucky's arm and led him across the floor all the same. "Which is great! Because that means I'll have an excuse to leave."

"You didn't forget your speech, did you?" 

"If I do, it's your duty as my boyfriend to prompt me," Steve told him. "Hi Natasha. Jess. Carol. Carol, this is Bucky. I don't believe you've met?"

Bucky put on his most charming smile as he shook their hands. "Lovely to meet you, Carol."

"Likewise," Carol said, eyeing him up and down. "Steve, you didn't tell me your boyfriend was this good-looking."

"Yeah, well." Steve shrugged, blushing to the nines. "I thought I did?" He grimaced.

"Don't tease him," Jess said under her breath, elbowing Carol. 

Steve took a huge gulp of his champagne. Bucky and Natasha shared an amused look.

"How about I take that and you get up on stage," Bucky said, taking the flute from him. "Bobbi looks like she's ready." It was only a half-lie; Bobbi was indeed up on stage, but she was adjusting the height of the mic and fiddling with something. 

"We should go," Natasha agreed, smoothly slipping her arm under Steve's. "We'll chat later," she added, this directed at Carol and Jess, and then took Steve with her onto the stage.

Jess suppressed a giggle.

Bucky side-eyed her, then shook his head and cleared his throat and turned to Carol. "Anyway, Steve told me you know Peggy?"

"Carter? I do, brilliant woman. We had an assignment together when I was still with the CIA. Never seen anyone deliver as perfect a punch as she did - apart from me, of course." Carol raised her fist. "I hear she's getting married again?"

Bucky nearly choked on his champagne. "What?"

"Nevermind," Carol said, backtracking quickly. "Jess, would you be a darling and fetch us some of that lovely champagne?"

"I think you should come with me to fetch that lovely champagne," Jess said. She tugged at Carol's arm and led her away.

Bucky blinked and looked into his own flute of champagne, wondering what just happened.

Clint joined him just as Bobbi tapped the microphone and got everybody's attention. She launched right into her welcoming speech and Bucky only nodded at Clint to acknowledge his presence. 

The speeches were all right - Steve delivered his without stuttering even once, so Bucky didn't need to prompt him at any one point - and the kids made some really cool performances with their martial arts. Bucky spotted more than one teary-eyed parent.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Bucky murmured, the moment Steve was back by his side. He'd drunk Steve's champagne while waiting, so he'd gotten him a new flute. "The audience loved you."

"It's the bowtie," Steve said, but he looked happy and relieved. He looked around the room, ostensibly looking for somebody to talk to for networking reasons. "Oh, Sam and Riley made it!" He pointed his flute towards the entrance, where Sam and Riley had just appeared. Riley had foregone prosthetics for the evening and was in his wheelchair, although looking sharp. "Let's go say hi."

"I thought you wanted to network?"

"Mmmh, we've got all evening." Steve stepped up kiss Bucky's cheek. "See those people over there? Keep an eye on them for me, as soon as there's an opening, we're going in."

"All right."

"Feel free to leave if you get bored," Steve told him. "It's okay."

"I promised to stay," Bucky protested. "I can be helpful. I can talk to the other arm candies while you network, right?"

Steve's smile was brilliant.

***

"Hey, Buck?" Steve said, staring into the trash. He was still holding the empty juice carton. "I'm not sure I should attract your attention to this, but I'm also sure you'd find out anyway."

"What?" Bucky stepped over to look over Steve's shoulder. He froze. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I'd say there's about a dozen of them," Steve said. "Maybe more."

Bucky reached into the trash and picked one of them up. "One line," he said. "That's...negative?"

"Let's see." Steve picked out one of the boxes and read the instructions on the back. "Two lines positive, one line negative." He looked back at the pile of used pregnancy tests in the trash. "Looks like there's a bunch of positive ones as well."

"Jesus." Bucky dropped the test back in. 

"Is Natasha going to be back today?" Steve asked, dropping the juice carton in. He closed the bin. "Do you think we should let her know that we...well. Found her stuff?"

"I don't know," Bucky answered. "Jesus. So many tests." 

"What are you thinking? You know her best." 

"I don't know. I really don't know. Not with this." Bucky nudged him. "Let's just make dinner?"

Steve glanced at the bin. "Do you think she's upset?"

"Probably? Steve, I don't know." Bucky shrugged helplessly. "This is one area where I don't actually know Nat very well."

"Well, I worry." Steve put his fingers into Bucky's belt hoops and pulled him closer. "A person who just went through a dozen pregnancy tests is probably either scared or desperate, wouldn't you think?"

"I'll talk to her. I'll think about what to say while we make dinner."

"Okay." Steve leaned up for a kiss. "Let's make dinner."

After dinner Steve settled on the sofa with his sketch pad and his feet in Bucky's lap. He was wearing orange socks with purple fish on them. Bucky fished out his phone and surreptitiously instagrammed Steve's feet, and then started up a video game he'd borrowed from Clint.

Steve's cellphone buzzed. "Really," he said, after looking at it. "Hashtag chillin with the fishes?"

"There are fish on your socks."

"Those are owls."

"No, I'm pretty sure they're fish," Bucky said, tickling the sole of Steve's left foot. "Look, twitchy like little fish."

Steve pulled his foot back. "I'm pretty sure you're wrong."

"I think it's cute you've got my Instagram on alert," Bucky countered.

"Well, now that I've finished my job at the school and have a reasonable schedule again and actually get to see you for more than a handful of hours every week, I might just take you off alert," Steve said. "You're enough of a distraction in real life."

"As opposed to what, unreal life?" 

Steve smiled. "Something like that."

Bucky pulled Steve's foot back into his lap. "All I wanted to do was document your socks. For posterity or something. Because the world needs to know they exist."

"These aren't even the coolest ones," Steve informed him. "Wait until you see the ones with the bats and elephants."

"I look forward to it." 

Steve wiggled his eyebrows and then returned his attention wholly to his sketch pad. Bucky picked up the video game again.

"That for your thesis project?" Bucky asked after a while. 

"No, this is just sketching. To take my mind off my thesis project, actually." Steve's fingers were black with charcoal. "I've got the first Critical Studies seminar of the semester on Monday and I'm also trying not to think too hard about that. And, you know. I have my first meeting with my thesis supervisor after the seminar, and I'm also trying not to think about that."

"What are you sketching?"

"Things," Steve said lightly. 

"What is it this time?" Bucky looked over. "My ear? My jaw? My nose?"

Steve raised the sketch pad to block Bucky's view of his face. "Just stuff."

"Is it dirty?" Bucky leaned over so he could look at Steve over the top of the pad. "Are you drawing filth?"

"No."

"Will I get to see?" 

"Maybe." Steve gave him a little smirk. 

"So it's filth."

"I assure you that what I'm drawing is very tasteful," Steve said. "Very chaste. Nothing like what you're thinking of."

Bucky tried to sneak a look, but Steve drew the sketch pad closer, so he gave up and went back to the video game. While he'd been idle, his character had gotten killed off.

He'd just finished a level and was looking through getting upgrades, when Steve wiggled his toes in an attempt to get his attention. Bucky caught his toes with one hand, using the other to click through the upgrades. Steve wriggled his left foot free and nudged Bucky's chin with it, causing Bucky to bite down on Steve's toes.

Steve giggled. "Tasty?"

Bucky dropped the controller and grabbed Steve's foot with both hands, keeping it in place as be mauled it. "Raaaahh," he growled.

"I finished," Steve said, giggling. "Want to see?"

"Yes!" Bucky dropped Steve's foot. "Show me your filth."

Steve turned the sketch pad around to show him what was on it. "There's your 'filth'." It was a detailed drawing of Bucky's hands handling the playstation controller. His right thumb was pressing the x-button down, the left poised on the analog stick. "Told you it would be perfectly respectable."

"This is better than filth," Bucky told him. "This is awesome."

"So you like it better than the collection of ears?"

"Well, to be fair that was kind of creepy," Bucky said and Steve whacked him with the sketch pad. "Really!"

"You have nice ears," Steve said. He glowered.

"They're just ears. Except now I wonder all the time if you're staring at them."

"Ugh, I should never have shown you that," Steve groaned. He closed the sketch pad. "I'm gonna go wash the charcoal off my hands."

"What, no more drawing?"

"I'll watch you play. Maybe distract you a little." Steve got up and thumbed Bucky's nose, leaving a trace of charcoal behind.

Bucky rubbed his nose with his sleeve. Steve came back with clean but dripping fingers, and let a few droplets fall on the back of Bucky's neck.

"I'll eat you," Bucky said, grabbing Steve's wrist before he could move away. "Menace. Come here." He tugged.

"I'm not going over there if you're gonna eat me," Steve said, but he didn't try to take his hand back.

"You sure about that?" Bucky nipped at Steve's hand. 

Steve leaned over the back of the sofa to give Bucky a kiss. "I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?"

"Mmh no, I'm good." He stole another kiss, then let Steve go. Bucky picked up the controller and went back to figuring out which upgrades to get.

Steve had just finished digging through the cupboards in pursuit of Natasha's secret tea stash, when she came home.

"Hey, Nat," Bucky called out. "Didn't your evening class finish two hours ago? I thought you'd gone to Clint's when you didn't show." When she didn't answer, Bucky paused the game and gave her a good look over.

She looked tired, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary these days, what with having just gone through weeks of hectic preparations for the grand opening, on top of keeping her classes up and running. She shed her coat quietly, hung her scarf and her beanie, then sat on the stool to unlace her boots. Those she also put away in their right place.

"Hey," Bucky said again, feeling a little apprehensive. "You know I'd never snoop in your stuff, but...you kind of left them where I'd see, and -"

Natasha's face crumpled.

Bucky was with her in a second, holding her close as she sobbed into his chest. "Shit, Nat," he said, stroking her hair awkwardly. His own heart was beating too fast for comfort, but he was damned if he was going to tell her just how scared he was.

Steve gestured to get his attention; he was holding up a mug and pointing it towards Natasha with a questioning look. Bucky nodded in response, and Steve made a second mug of tea.

"Nat, hey," Bucky murmured. "Can you tell me what this is about? I don't want to assume, but...does this have anything to do with the billion pregnancy tests in the trash?"

Natasha nodded, sobbing harder. Her fists were clenched in the front of his jumper.

"Shh, it'll be okay," Bucky said in soft tones, tightening his hold on her. "Everything's going to be fine. You're going to be okay." He saw that Steve had finished making the tea and had brought it to the coffee table. He'd also turned the Playstation and TV off. "Come sit with me," Bucky said, rubbing her back. "Okay?"

She came with him willingly, breath hitching in her throat and wiping at her face with her sleeves. Bucky sat her in the middle, keeping an arm around her. Steve sat on her other side, nudging the tea into her field of vision.

Wonderful, beautiful Steve, who had also brought over a pack of Kleenex.

"Do you want to talk?" Bucky asked, but Natasha only crumpled again, leaning into Bucky and sobbing.

"Uhm, should I leave?" Steve asked.

Natasha shook her head, grabbing for his wrist. "No," she said. "Don't. I..."

"Okay," Steve said, gently freeing his wrist and instead taking Natasha's hand in both his. "I won't go. I made you tea," he added. 

"Thank you." She gave him a watery smile, then her eyes brimmed over again.

Bucky gave her a tissue from the Kleenex pack. "Everything will be okay," he said, squeezing her. "Okay? Everything will be fine."

"You don't know that," she sniffled, wiping her nose. "I don't know that it'll be okay."

"Maybe if you tell me what's wrong I can help you make it okay," Bucky told her. "Me and Steve both."

"I'm pregnant," Natasha said. "I went to the doctor on my lunch break to make sure." She crumpled the tissue in her hands and reached out for a new one.

"Okay," Bucky said, momentarily at a loss for words. He glanced at Steve, who looked just as helpless. "Uhm. Is that a... I mean, do you want to be pregnant or...?"

"I want it," she said. "That's...that's the problem." Her lip wobbled.

"So...uhm. Clint's the problem?" Bucky asked, grasping at straws.

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. We... No, he's not the problem." She drew in a shaky breath. "How much do you know about my life in Russia? Before I met you?"

"Uhm," Bucky said, caught off guard. "I know you have a dad and three brothers. I don't know what happened to your mum, but I know your dad taught you your martial arts. Uhm. You studied Literature at university and then switched to Women's Studies." He paused, thinking. "I know you were married before you came to Moscow."

Steve's eyes widened at that.

"Did I ever tell you why I got divorced?" she asked softly.

"No. I never asked." Bucky squeezed her. "Is this about that?"

"Yeah. I... I married when I was seventeen, did I tell you that? God, we were so young and stupid. In love, but young and stupid," she said. "We even had to get special permission because of my age."

"Do I dare ask how old he was?" Bucky asked.

"Nineteen. He wasn't some old geezer," Natasha said. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, Steve tells me, like, every day," Bucky said. "What happened?"

Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes and she sniffled. "After some time, I got pregnant," she said, her face twisting as she tried not to cry. "And it was...perfect. We were so happy." She started sobbing again. "But my baby died. She died in my belly. A month before I was due, she died." 

"Oh, Nat," Bucky said, pulling her close. Her shoulders shook and she sobbed harder than she did earlier. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, stroking her hair. He tied to swallow down the lump in his throat. He had never heard anyone sound so broken before and the fact it was Natasha was making it hard to breathe.

Steve wasn't doing much better. He was clutching Natasha's hand so tight his knuckles were turning white, and his eyes were wet.

Bucky didn't trust himself to speak, so he just held Natasha until her crying subsided.

"She just died," Natasha said through the tears, her voice hoarse and wet. "There wasn't anything wrong, her heart just...stopped. She just died," Natasha's voice broke. "She was so beautiful. Even though... She was my baby girl, you know. She was beautiful."

"Of course she was," Bucky said, still stroking her hair. 

Natasha blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "The doctor said the risk of it happening again was very small and we should try again," she said. "But we didn't... I didn't want a _replacement_. I just wanted my little girl. My Alina. I named her after my grandmother, you know." She choked back a sob. "We... I... We couldn't handle it. Our marriage fell apart. Eventually I left." She sniffled. "I went to Moscow, tried to forget."

"And you're scared it'll happen again?" Bucky asked, realisation dawning on him. "Is that it?"

"Yes," Natasha said, fresh tears welling up. "I'm older now, you know? There's always more risks when you're older, you know? I'm scared." Her breath hitched. "James, I'm so scared."

"I know, it's okay, it's okay to be scared," Bucky said. He kissed the top of her head. "It's okay."

"She'd have been seventeen next month. My baby. She'd have been seventeen," Natasha said, sniffling. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old to have babies! How can it be right? It's too late. It can't be okay, how can it be okay?"

"You're not too old," Bucky told her. "Plenty of women have babies in their thirties. You're not even _that old_ , Nat," he said, squeezing her. 

"I'm going to be a mother of dead babies," Natasha cried.

"No, no you're not. Not this time," Bucky said. "It's going to be okay. Your baby is going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine. If I say it enough times will you believe me?"

Natasha let out a broken little laugh. "I don't know."

"I'll go with you to every single doctor's appointment to make sure you'll be okay," he said. "Okay? I'll make sure."

"You can't do that." Natasha sniffled. She picked up the tea Steve had made for her. It was barely even lukewarm by now, but she sipped it anyway. 

"You're going to be okay," Bucky said, not knowing what else to say. "Isn't that right, Steve?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "That's right."

Natasha was quiet for a while, except for the occasional sniffle. She drank the cold tea and wiped at her eyes. She stared at her hands a lot.

"If you see Clint, don't say anything. I'll tell him myself," she said eventually.

"Of course. Where is he anyway?"

"He's got the night shift today and tomorrow," she said. "I won't see him until the day after tomorrow. He's taking me out for dinner, I'll tell him then. I think." She dropped her used tissues into her empty mug. "I don't fancy telling him over the phone."

"Will you be okay?" 

"Yeah," she said. "Steve, can you fetch me a washcloth?"

"Of course." He sprang up, seemingly relieved to get something to do. He returned quickly with a damp, cool washcloth for her.

"Thank you." She wiped her face clean. "I feel better for it."

"Want to cuddle for a bit?" Bucky wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm sure you can be the filling in our sandwich if you ask Steve nicely."

"I want a fresh cup of tea," she said. "And then I want a cuddle. Put on one of your science documentaries or something." She extracted herself and went to the bathroom.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other.

"I don't know what to say," Steve said, quietly so Natasha wouldn't hear.

"Me neither." He reached out to take Steve's hand. "I'll help you make tea."

"Like it's hard," Steve said. He picked up the mugs and carried them to the kitchen, Bucky following.

"Maybe I just wanted a hug," Bucky said, wrapping his arms around him from behind. "I'll be the filling. That way I can cuddle both of you."

Steve put the kettle on, then turned in Bucky's arms to squeeze him. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I kind of want to cry, but I'm not going to," he said. "Give me a kiss and I'll be fine."

"She's going to be okay," Steve said and leaned up to kiss him.

"Yeah." Bucky kissed him again, lingering a little longer this time. "I'll tell myself that."

Natasha came back from the bathroom, having changed into comfy pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. She curled up on one end of the sofa and Bucky went to join her. She instantly curled into his side, drawing her legs up as well, and Bucky put his arm around her.

"Are you..."

"Tired," she said. "Put the documentary on. I don't want to think."

"Okay." He turned the TV and Netflix on. He selected one about freakishly tall buildings and how they were made.

Steve joined them a little later, handing Natasha a steaming mug of chamomile and peppermint tea. He curled up against Bucky's other side.

"James?" Natasha's voice was so soft she almost couldn't be heard over the TV.

"Mmh?" 

"I love you," she said. "It means a lot to me that you're here."

"I love you too," Bucky said, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "You're my favourite ex, you know."

She pinched him and Bucky yelped.

"Serves you right," Steve said.

"I love you too, by the way," Bucky said to him. "You are also my favourite something."

"Something," Steve snorted. 

"I'd say favourite boyfriend but that'd imply I have more than one," Bucky argued.

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up, James. You're digging your own grave."

He shut up. 

"Really, though," Bucky said, squeezing Natasha. "I love you like a sister. You know that, right? Despite the dumb ex jokes I make and everything. I love you like a sister."

"I know," Natasha answered softly.

She fell asleep near the end of the documentary, and with some help from Steve he put her to bed.

***

Natasha wasn't running late, exactly, she'd just had some last minute things to take care of, and she'd already showered and changed, so she wasn't running late. Okay, maybe just a little; she still had an hour to get Clint changed and then he'd drive them over to the restaurant, and even then they'd have time to spare - Clint had been smart and booked the table for quarter past, because he knew they habitually ran late for dinner dates.

The plan fell apart the moment she let herself into Clint's flat and found Clint on the floor with a dog.

The dog had a leg in a cast and a cone of shame around its neck.

"Oh hi, Nat, hi," Clint said, scrambling to get up, but somehow he managed to trip over the dog and land flat on his back. The dog yelped and pawed at Clint. "There's a, uh, I have a dog problem."

"I see that," Natasha said. She couldn't quite make herself stop staring. "How...?"

"There was an accident when I got back from - shit, I, uh, okay so, this wasn't part of the plan. I wasn't gonna, tonight I mean, maybe after tonight but not now, but uhm," Clint said, now having managed to push the dog off him. He was digging around in his pockets for something. "I ran him over, shit where is it - got it - and he's mine now I guess? But anyway. The point is I was getting the ring and now I have it and I'm already on the floor so, uh, it's happening now."

Clint had extracted a small velvet box from his pocket. He opened it, revealing a ring, a plain sort, very straightforward, but pretty.

The dog licked Clint's face.

"I think you're supposed to say something," Natasha said, feeling faint. "I think there's supposed to be a question in there somewhere."

"Right, yes." Clint pushed the dog away and got to his feet, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. "Gross. I probably smell of dog, sorry about that."

"Yeah," Natasha said. She glanced at the box in his hands. The ring was shiny, probably polished or something or maybe the velvet made it look shinier. It's probably why they used velvet.

"I thought," Clint said, moving to take Natasha's hands in his, "we've been going to therapy for a while, and it's going well, really well, it's a real confidence booster, to, you know, all this, you and me and life, and I've been thinking about this for a while, and I've been saving money for a while too, for years actually, like, I've _got_ money now - I want to buy you a house with like, a nice fence and everything, or maybe a flat, we can do flats. I don't mind flats. We can put your cat in it and I guess also this new dog I suddenly have, and..." Clint trailed off. "I forgot the actual question, didn't I?"

Natasha's heart pinched, or maybe it was more accurate to say that something pinched her heart, because suddenly it was a little hard to breathe and her face was doing the thing where it got too hot and tears were mobilising. "I'm pregnant," she said, and there went the first tear. "Shit, I can't cry now, we need to leave for the restaurant in less than an hour -"

"You're..." Clint dropped the box. "Oh. _Oh_ ," he said, cupping Natasha's face in his hands. "You can cry, it's okay." 

"I'm scared," she said, lip wobbling.

"I know. But you're going to be okay. Okay?" 

"Yeah." She drew in a shuddering breath. "I'm happy, but I'm scared too, you know?"

"Yeah." He drew her into a hug. "You miss her, don't you?"

"I can't talk about her right now," she said into his shoulder. "I can't go to dinner with a bloated face and red eyes."

"Okay." Clint nodded. He pulled away to look at her. "We'll talk later if you like."

"Yeah." She wiped her eyes. "Okay, I'm... Fine. For now."

"I didn't think it'd happen so fast," he said. "You only got off the pill, what, three months ago?"

"We got lucky, I think." She gave him a smile. "I really do want to have this baby. I'm...I'm happy about this."

"Is this where I say I also want to have this baby? Because I totally do," he said.

"Something like that." Natasha retrieved the box from the floor. "So, about this..."

"Oh, yeah. So, do you want to? Uhm, marry me, I mean."

"Yeah, I do." She opened the box and took the ring out, then put it on her finger. She examined her hand. "I like it."

"I love you," Clint said, bringing her hand to his lips. "I know I'm not very good at showing it, but I'm working on it, and I love you, and you make me happy and I hope I make you happy too, and -"

"Clint." Natasha looked him in the eye. "We are having a baby."

"Yeah, yeah we are." Clint drew in a deep breath. "Can I freak out about that now? Or should I wait? I need to freak out at some point."

Natasha smiled. "You get ten minutes to freak out, and then you really need to change out of your uniform."

"O-kay." Clint kissed her. "Okay. No, yes. I'll freak out later. I'll freak out in our next therapy session, let the professional handle it and all. Let's go. Shit, the dog - "

"The dog can be alone for a few hours," Natasha told him. "Go change."

***

Bucky was not expecting a crowd, and he wasn't expecting the crowd to be _dancing_. Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true, as Steve tended to get caught up in the really big things, and the really big things always had a lot of people. This thing had a bunch of people dancing near the centre, and loud dance-y music to go with the dancing, as well as a small jungle of signs and banners.

He got up on his toes to better see over the crowd, in an attempt to locate Steve. It took a while, but eventually he spotted a slim figure with a blond head that looked distinctly like Steve, and Bucky made his way through the mass of dancing people to get to him.

"Steve," he shouted, trying to get his attention, when he was just a few steps away.

Steve whirled around in the middle of a - for lack of better words, _dance move_ , and lit up at the sight of Bucky. "Buck! Hey! Come dance with me," he said, reaching out for Bucky's hand. 

"You don't dance," Bucky said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"We're keeping warm," Steve explained. He hadn't stopped moving. "You did bring my coat, yeah?"

"Yeah," Bucky answered, holding up the coat. He'd waddled it together and now shook it out. Steve stepped right into it, not even bothering to shrug out of his bike jacket first, but he didn't zip it up right away. 

"Thank you." Steve got up on his toes and gave Bucky a kiss. "You're the _best_. Sure you don't want to dance with me?"

Bucky smiled. "Since you're offering," he said, taking Steve's hand and leading him into a spin. 

The song changed and somebody turned the volume up. The effect was amazing; as one, he entire crowd starting jumping up and down and singing along. Steve was grinning, his cheeks rosy and eyes bright, and Bucky absolutely loved him. 

"Did you have a hand in the playlist?" Bucky asked, after a couple of minutes. "I'm pretty sure I recognise this song from your Fight The Fucking World playlist."

"A little," Steve admitted. "Great, isn't it?" He let Bucky swing him around, then pulled Bucky close for another kiss. "Will you do me another favour? You brought your helmet, right?"

"Probably, and yes I did." Bucky held up his arm, the helmet dangling off it.

"Ohhh good. Will you take my bike home? I'm a little worried about it getting vandalised," Steve said. "I parked it just around the corner, but you never know with protests, anything can happen." 

"Oh, I know. Sure. How are you getting home then?" Bucky slowed their dancing down to a halt. 

"Sam said he'd pick me up after his shift - I'm sleeping at home tonight," he explained. He pointed at a blond woman who was handing out flyers by the sidewalk. "That's Sharon, by the way!"

"Sharon?"

"Oh, right, do you remember that art project I did that one time, raunchy stuff?" Steve asked. "The project I had a fight with my thesis supervisor about last week?"

"...I, yes?"

"Sharon modelled for most of it, the other people in the project were her girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend," Steve explained. "And me, but I used old stuff for reference, from that time we used to bang a lot."

"Okay." Bucky nodded. "Were you going to introduce us, or…? I'm a little confused here, Steve."

"Oh! No - well, if you want to say hi, that's cool. It just occured to me, I mean, she's right there. And I may have had a beer," Steve admitted. "Did I say I'm glad you came? Because I am."

Bucky smiled. "Well, I'm glad to see you. But I need to go or I'll be late for my thing with Nat."

"Oh! Of course. Have fun!" Steve kissed him.

"You'll be all right?" 

"I'd be more all right if you stayed with me," Steve said, trying and failing to wink seductively. "Sure you don't want to?" 

"I'm sure I promised Nat we'd stay in together tonight. I think we're watching a movie," Bucky told him. He opened his messenger's bag and pulled out a thermos. "She made you tea, by the way."

"Ohhh, awesome. Tell her thanks, that's incredibly thoughtful of her." Steve took the thermos and unscrewed the lid. The scent of lemon and honey filled the air. "I don't know what I was expecting, but it should've been this."

"Yes," Bucky agreed. "That's what you get for infecting all of us with a cold. You sure you don't want to come to mine after?"

"Yeah, I was planning to get some real sleep tonight, and Sam's picking me up, so. Unless…?"

"No, it's all right. Just text me when you get home?"

"Will do. Oh, my keys." Steve picked the bike keys off his keychain and handed them to Bucky. "Be careful?"

"Of course. See you later." Bucky pulled him close and snogged him so thoroughly that they were both giggling. "All right, I'm going. Have fun and be careful and text me?"

"Yeah, yeah, now go," Steve said and kissed him again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

***

Unsurprisingly, Bucky got a call from Steve at around eight, asking to be picked up at the ER.

"What happened?" he asked the moment he found Steve in the waiting room.

Really, the black eye and bloody nose should've been all the information he needed. 

"It turned a little violent," Steve explained, sheepish. "Nothing major on my part, mostly just a few bruises and one banged up nose." He grit his teeth. "But I had to call Sam and tell him to stay away. It wouldn't have been safe for him."

"Jesus," Bucky said. "That bad?"

"Yeah. Don't know what it's like now. I'll check the internet later." He sighed. "I suppose I should've expected things to turn out this way, but I'm mad all the same."

"Yeah." Bucky peered closely at him. "Did you break your nose? It doesn't _look_ broken..."

"I don't think so, but it hurts more than I'd like so Sharon made me have it checked out." Steve shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "I'm okay."

"Okay." Bucky laced their fingers together. "How long do you have to wait?"

"Got here an hour ago, so not much longer I think." Steve inched closer, putting his head on Bucky's shoulder. "Thanks for coming." 

Steve's phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Peggy calling. He rejected the call and opened the text messages instead. "In the ER, can't talk," he muttered, and sent the text.

"What's she want?" Bucky asked.

"Dunno." Steve's phone buzzed again, this time with a text. "Oh. She's getting married. She and Gabe."

"Really?" Bucky leaned over to see the text. "I heard something about that."

Another text came in. "Because she's pregnant," Steve read. " _Oh_." A third text came in. "It's on Sunday three weeks from now, no party. All right then." He turned the phone off. "I'll call her tomorrow."

***

Bucky had another appointment with Loki to have work done on his tattoo, and spent most of the time watching Steve. The black eye had turned an odd purplish yellow.

The tattoo didn't get finished that day, but that was no fault of Loki's - Thor announced to everyone that he and Jane were going to be parents and by the way they were also going to get married, and the shop was closed early so they could all go out to celebrate. 

"When did all our friends decide to get married and have babies?" Steve whispered to Bucky, who just shook his head in despair.

***

"So, Valentine’s Day was three weeks ago and we didn't do anything," Bucky started, cutting himself off at Steve's suspicious look.

"We didn't do anything because everywhere was covered in pink and red and all the restaurants were booked and we decided to hide at home, and then spent the evening comforting Natasha with her pregnancy thing," Steve said. 

"I'm aware." Bucky gave Thor and Sif a little wave, then pulled Steve away and closed the door. "But I still wanted to do something, so I'm taking you out tonight."

"As a belated Valentine’s date?"

"Because the thing we're doing is really cool and wasn't actually available on Valentine’s Day," Bucky said. "And it's a secret and a surprise and I'm pretty sure you'll love it."

"Is it art related?"

"Yep." Bucky grinned. "And we're leaving the bike. We don't have time to deal with parking."

Steve considered this, but then nodded. "Okay." He followed Bucky towards the nearest subway stop. "Is there food involved? I'm starving. I've been at the shop all day and I've barely had a break."

"There is food involved," Bucky assured him. 

There was indeed food involved. Bucky'd taken them to an open air cinematic experience in Central Park, complete with comfortable outdoors couches and blankets and waiters serving hot food and drinks. 

On screen was a biopic of an artist - granted, not one Bucky was sure Steve liked, but it _was_ art related - and Steve was thrilled. 

"This is awesome," Steve told him, leaning into him and pulling the woollen blanket up higher. He was cradling a mug of hot tea. "Was it hard to get tickets?"

"A little," Bucky admitted. "I had to queue on the phone for half an hour to get them."

Somebody behind them shushed them, so Bucky contented himself by pressing a kiss into Steve's hair. 

They stopped by a photo booth on the way home and took three strips of silly pictures.

***

"That's a ring," Bucky said, eyeing Natasha's finger. "That's a ring, and I've been staring at it for _weeks_ now, waiting for you to finally make the damn announcement. And you haven't. But you have a _ring_."

"I do have a ring," Natasha agreed. She held up her hand to look at it. "It's a very nice ring, isn't it?"

"It is." Bucky was looking straight into Natasha's eyes.

Natasha looked straight back.

"Come _on_ ," Bucky whined. "I'm your goddamn bestie. Just tell me already!"

"What kind of ring exactly do you think this is?" Natasha asked calmly. 

Bucky crossed his arms.

"It doesn't _look_ like an engagement ring," she said, now giving him a speculative look. "So…"

"Okay! I helped Clint pick it out! There! I _know_ it's an engagement ring."

She burst out laughing. "I'm so not sorry for making you suffer," Natasha told him, eyes glittering. "So, yes. Clint and I are engaged." She shrugged. "That's a thing that's happening."

"When is the thing happening?" Bucky flopped over the back of the sofa. 

"The thing is happening we don't know when," Natasha answered. "We haven't set a date, or timeframe, or anything." She poked Bucky's nose. "Probably the thing is not happening for another fifteen years or so. You and Steve will be an old married couple by then."

Bucky sputtered. 

"Did I say something?" Natasha asked sweetly. 

"Yes," Bucky answered, poking her right back. "Who says we'll get married?"

"I do, because I know you want to."

"I never said that!"

"You didn't have to." Natasha patted the space next to her, and Bucky clambered over the sofa to join her. "Put your hand on my stomach."

"Why? Is the baby kicking yet?"

"No. It just feels nice," she said. "It's a little early for the baby to be kicking, but it could happen any time soon. Probably within the next four weeks." 

He put his hand on her stomach, and Natasha put both of hers over his. "I don't feel anything."

"Because the baby _isn't_ kicking yet." She elbowed him. "So, when are you going to ask for Steve's hand in marriage?"

"Never."

She raised her eyebrow at him. They entered another staring contest. 

"I'm not going to ask him," Bucky told her, then set his jaw stubbornly. "I'm _not_."

"Okay," Natasha said, dropping all fun and play. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter, I just. I'm not going to. That's all." 

"Hmm." Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. "Five years from now, you're still gonna be stupidly in love with him, yeah?"

"Yeah," Bucky confirmed. "Definitely."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't think…" Bucky shrugged. "I don't want to tie him to me. It feels like I'd be trapping him or something." He shrugged again. "So I don't know, I just don't…" 

"That's kind of the point of marriage, isn't it?" Natasha asked. "Tying yourself to another person. For life or until death do you part. All that jazz."

"That's just it." Bucky sighed. "Okay, so. Remember how I told you that Steve's poly?"

"...Yes? What's that to do with anything?"

"So, if I ask him to marry me, it'd kinda be like saying 'so if you marry _me_ , you can't ever love anybody else, and that's kind of really awful and limiting, right? Like, I'm just completely removing the option for him to have an additional relationship at any point."

She stared at him. "Do you want him to?"

"Do I want him to what?" 

"Don't play stupid. Do you want him to have another relationship? Somebody else besides you?"

"No," Bucky admitted. "But _he_ might! And I want him to be happy, you know? So if...well. Then I'm not going to stop him."

"Have you talked to him about this?"

"Yeah, well sort of, he keeps shutting the discussion down and saying there's nothing to talk about because it's not going to happen. But it could happen. And what's worse, that I'm actively keeping him from it or that he gets the chance to be happy with somebody else too?" he rubbed his face in frustration. "He's a bit infuriating."

"Hm." Natasha regarded him. "What would happen if he did? Who would you resent more? Him? The other person? Or you?"

Bucky was quiet for a while. "I _want_ to say that I wouldn't resent Steve… but I would. I would resent him and the other person and probably me too. I would _hate_ it. I would hate me for resenting him, and I would hate him and I would hate everything."

She squeezed his knee. "Have you told Steve this?"

"No." Bucky sighed. "No, I haven't. I suppose I should. I just… I don't want him to feel trapped with me. I don't want him to feel that… this is it." He gestured at himself. "This is all there is."

"You're an idiot," Natasha told him. "He loves you. He wouldn't still be here if he didn't love your big fat moronic ass."

Bucky shrugged. Natasha shook her head in exasperation.

"Well," she eventually said. "Maybe you don't _have_ to get married." She patted his hand. "But I know you and your silly little romantic heart, and I know you want to. And _I_ want _you_ to be happy."

He looked at her. "Did you know that I thought I was going to marry you? You were it for me, back then."

"We were together a _month_ ," Natasha said. "You can't possibly have thought that."

"But I did." He gave her a small smile. "Steve is it now. I don't want to ask him to marry me because I am terrified he will think I'm trying to put him in a cage, and then decide to leave. I can't let that happen."

"You're still an idiot," Natasha said. "Talk to him. You don't have to bring up marriage if you don't want to, but you need to talk."

"Yeah." Bucky grimaced, then shrugged. "I know. I just... like the way things are _now_. If I talk maybe things will change."

"You won't know until you've talked to him." She squeezed his knee again and dropped the subject, but Bucky was pretty sure that wasn't going to be the end of it. "So, you _are_ going to be my maid of honour, yeah?"

"I'd be offended if I weren't," Bucky told her.

***

"Clint, all you have to do is hold the camera. And point it at me." Natasha stood in the kitchen, hands on her hips, and looking for all the world like she wanted to rip Clint's throat out. "What's so difficult about that?"

"I'm just saying," Clint said, gesticulating at Natasha, "that maybe it's not a super good idea to do this stuff while _pregnant_?"

"I'm doing this precisely _because_ I'm pregnant!" Natasha said, losing her temper. "If you can't deal with it, just go! I'll get somebody else to do it!"

Bucky cleared his throat subtly. Well, as subtly as he could, which wasn't very subtle at all.

"What," Natasha snapped, turning on him. 

"I just wanted to say that I'm ready whenever you are," he said. "For this thing. Just let me know when and where, yeah?"

Clint drew in a deep breath then, then opened his mouth to say something.

"Please," Natasha said to him. "It'll be fine! The baby will be fine! That's the whole point of this exercise!"

"I know," Clint said, surrendering. "I'm just saying...look, you're terrified of losing the baby, yeah? So I'm just...why put yourself at extra risk?"

Natasha sighed. "We've been over this," she said. "This isn't extra risk. This is a demonstration of self defense strategies specifically for pregnant women under controlled circumstances," she said. " _We've been over this_. James isn't going to tackle me to the ground and punch me in the belly, you know."

"Absolutely not," Bucky confirmed.

"But," Natasha continued, "it is a real risk for a lot of women out there, so I _am_ going to teach them how to defend themselves in case something like that happens!" She put her foot down for effect.

Clint stared her down, but eventually he caved. "All right. Just be careful. Please?"

"Of course. We've practised this several times, you know. We've got it down." She looked at Clint. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said, closing the distance between them and putting his hands on her hips. "I worry about you. That's all."

"I know. And I'm glad you do, but this is important to me. It's important to so many people, and all I want is your support."

"I'll promise not to make a fuss again?" Clint narrowed his eyes at her. "Unless you actually get hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt. Come, look at the script I wrote for the videos." She picked up a few sheets of paper. Several of the lines were crossed out and had been rewritten.

"You wrote a script?"

"I had to decide what to say, didn't I?" She held out the first sheet and read aloud. "Hi, I'm Natasha and I'm going to teach you a couple of self defence methods for pregnant women in various stages. This is the first video in a series, which I'll be recording over the next few months." She gestured at Bucky. "This is my assistant, James, who'll pose as an attacker for our purposes."

She motioned for him to come closer. Bucky actually got off the sofa and moved to stand beside her.

"If you are attacked you must seek medical help immediately. There is no perfect defense against attacks. The methods I'm about to show you minimise risk, but will not eliminate it. Take care of yourself and if you are hurt, go to the hospital."

"Jeez," Bucky muttered under his breath. "Do a lot of pregnant women get attacked on the streets?"

"Good question. Every woman is at risk on the streets," Natasha told him. "But this is not only for those women - there are women who face violence in their home, and these demonstrations are also for them. Not everyone has the opportunity to take self defence classes, so I'm hoping to reach them through online videos instead."

Clint looked between them. "Is that in the script?" he asked. "It sounds like it could be good?"

"Maybe if we rephrase it a little?" Bucky suggested.

"Yeah," Natasha said. "We should add it in. But first I need to pee. Sorry, it's the tiny baby's fault," she added at the look on Clint's face, which promptly shut him up.

***

Natasha was on the sofa and Bucky was in the kitchen, when Steve let himself in. He shrugged off his jacket and then shook the water off. His helmet was covered in little pearly droplets of water.

"Are you serious about that t-shirt?" she asked him, grinning. 

"Dead serious," Steve answered. His t-shirt said _CUTIE#1_ in large letters across his chest. "Can't let Bucky see, he'll want to fix it."

"Fix what?" Bucky asked, stepping out of the kitchen. "Oh. Yes. That _definitely_ needs fixing."

"You will not touch this shirt," Steve told him, trying and failing to take his boots of without getting his hands muddied. 

"I have a sharpie -"

"No," Steve said. "This shirt is a work of art. _Literally_. Handprinted by one of my classmates from art school. It's a one of a kind."

"Oh," Bucky said, slightly dejected. 

"If it makes you feel better, I asked him to make one that says cutiepie," Steve told him, his boots now off. "But the letters wouldn't fit."

"Well," Bucky surmised. "I suppose cutie works too."

"It totally does." Steve pulled him into a kiss, muddy hands and all. Bucky grumbled, but kissed him back all the same.

"I can't decide if you two are disgusting or just completely ridiculous," Natasha said from the sofa. "Come over here and help me decide which house to buy."

They turned to stare at her.

"You're buying a house?" Bucky asked, incredulously.

" _Clint_ is buying a house," she corrected. "Apartment, actually. But I like saying house."

"...why?"

"We are engaged. We're having a baby," she said. "We want to move in together."

"Oh. Right. Of course." 

"Did you think she was going to raise the baby here?" Steve asked him. He'd washed his hands in the kitchen sink, and was wiping them dry on a dishtowel. "Or in Clint's minuscule apartment?"

"Well, no," Bucky admitted. "I'd just...not really… considered it?"

"I'm not packing my bags and leaving tomorrow," Natasha said. "Come sit with me." She patted the space next to her. 

"We've lived together for like a decade," Bucky said. "It's a lifetime! You can't just move out."

"I can and I will and it hasn't actually been that long. Look at these. What do you think?"

"How long _have_ you lived together?" Steve asked, nudging Bucky to sit. 

"Seven years maybe? I lived in a flatshare when I got to the states, and Bucky lived at home, isn't that right? And then we got this place together. Isn't it seven years?"

"Yeah," Bucky confirmed. "Something like that."

"Would you please just look at the apartments?" Natasha asked, pushing the pile of ads at Bucky's face. "And accept that I am moving out."

"Yeah, okay," Bucky grumbled. "But you're not allowed to move far away."

"We're staying in Brooklyn," Natasha told him. "But we'll probably move to a different part of it. Apartments around here are nice to rent, but too expensive to buy, so we're looking at these options instead." She pointed at the ads. 

"These are all townhomes," Bucky observed. "You can afford that?" 

"Those particular ones, yeah."

"I like this one," Steve said, picking out an ad. "Two storeys, two bedrooms, nice large living room and kitchen. And a driveway, so Clint can stop feeding coins into parking meters. It looks pretty perfect for a small family."

"That one is in my yes pile," Natasha told him, smiling. "Next week we've arranged to go see some of these places."

"So what do you need our help for?" Bucky poked her.

"Just a second opinion."

"So long as I can come over and babysit, I don't care where you live," he told her. "Right, Steve?"

Steve shook his head, eyes wide open, hands held up in protest. "I'm not babysitting _anyone_ ," he said. "Not happening."

"Okay, you get to watch TV while I play with the baby on the floor," Bucky decided. 

"I'm not changing diapers either, just so you know."

"I have no problem changing diapers!" Bucky proclaimed. "I am the best at babysitting. You won't find anyone better than me," he said to Natasha. "I swear it. I changed all of Becky's diapers when she was little and she turned out fine."

"I believe you," she said, amused. "You'll get to babysit, I promis- oh! The baby's kicking!" She grabbed Bucky's hand and put it over her stomach. "Right here! Do you feel it?"

"I'm not sure...Oh! There was something there, right?" He kept his hand on Natasha's belly, and she moved it to a different place. "This is so cool. Is it the first time the baby kicks?"

"No, that was yesterday." She smiled, happiness lighting up her entire face. "Clint cried."

"I bet." 

"Are _you_ going to cry?" Steve asked, eyeing Bucky warily. 

"I might just," Bucky said. "This is _awesome_." 

The baby stopped kicking after a little while, and they went back to perusing the ads.

"So, Steve," Natasha said, nudging him with her foot. "Have Sam and Riley kicked you out yet?"

"Noo-o," Steve answered. "Not yet."

"What? Nobody's kicking anybody out," Bucky said, confused. "What?"

"Sam and Riley want to make my room into a nursery," Steve explained. "Once, you know, there's actually a baby. Rachel is having her first IVF treatment next week and they're hopeful."

"Oh, I see. That makes sense. Where are you going to live then?" Bucky asked. 

"Here," Natasha answered, before Steve got a word put in. 

They both turned to stare at her.

"Don't look at me like that," she said. "I'm moving out in a couple of months. You might as well move in here before Sam and Riley actually kick you out," she told Steve. "You spend like ninety per cent of your time here anyway."

Steve looked at Bucky, eyebrow raised.

"Well, Steve," Bucky said, taking on an overly formal tone. "Would you like to share my humble abodes?"

"I think it's just abode," Steve said.

"Ugh, whatever, move in with me, Steve." Bucky poked him. "We'll turn Natasha's room into an art studio for you. Deal?"

"Deal." Steve grinned. "I'll move in with you once Natasha's out."

***

Kate was awkwardly patting Natasha on the back, when Clint came home from his early shift. Natasha was crying, though she didn't seem completely incapacitated or anything. Lucky assaulted him and nearly knocked him over, so Clint spent a good few minutes trying to calm down a huge golden retriever before he could really react to what was happening in his living room.

"What's up?" 

"I don't really know, I got here about ten minutes ago," Kate said. "I was just gonna borrow a bow."

"I'm fine," Natasha said, sniffling into a bunch of wadded up tissues. "Thank you, Kate. It was sweet of you to stay but you can go if you want."

"Okay?" Kate got up, gesturing at Clint to just hurry the fuck up and _get over here dammit_. "I'm going to the range with America, I'll bring your bow back tomorrow, is that all right?" 

"Yeah, sure." Clint took up Kate's spot next to Natasha. Lucky curled up on his other side, and Clint couldn't bear to push him off the sofa even if the dog technically wasn't allowed on it. "Stay safe."

Kate left with an old compound bow. 

"What is it?" he asked Natasha. "Did anything bad happen?"

"No." She gave him a teary smile, shaking her head. She leaned into Clint's side. "I just… I found my ex-husband on facebook. He re-married and got a small handful of kids," she said. "So I decided to call him. Ask him how he did it."

"What'd he say?" 

"Well, after the first initial surprise of hearing from me again, we had a good talk. He said… he said the fear never goes away. He _also_ said that the fear is worth it because he now has three beautiful kids that he wouldn't have had if he'd let the fear stop him." She wiped her eyes. "They're all healthy and happy. He's happy." 

"You weren't going to let the fear stop _you_ , were you?" Clint asked, squeezing her gently. 

"No, not really. But it was really nice to talk to someone who's been through the same thing, you know?" She dropped the wadded up tissues on the coffee table and leaned back in the sofa, drawing in a deep breath. "If he can do it, then I can do it too."

Clint moved a lock of her hair out of her face, then put his hand on her stomach. "Of course you can do it."

"Can you feel our baby kicking?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "Yeah, I can." 

"We also talked about Alina," Natasha said, a little quieter. "It was… nice. Good. She was ours. I think I needed to do it, to… talk about it. And to get confirmation that even if I have another baby it doesn't mean I'll forget her." A few fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "He told me he's been leaving her flowers from both of us. Every year, on her birthday and on the holidays, and sometimes for no reason at all." 

Clint didn't know what to say, just handed her back her tissues. 

"I asked him to get her a big bouquet of flowers from me when he gets the chance." She wiped her eyes. "I miss her so much and I didn't even get to know her."

"But you did get to know her," Clint said. "You carried her. You talked to her and sang to her and she kicked you and did backflips in there and she was your baby," he said. "You knew her."

Natasha smiled, then promptly started crying again. "I'm sorry, it's just been a very emotional day," she said into the tissues. "I'll be fine in a bit." 

"Did you know you get a bit of your Russian accent back when you're upset?" Clint told her, stroking her hair. 

She laughed.

"It's true. It's just a little bit, but it's there." 

Natasha blew her nose and wiped her eyes, then sat up straight. "Ok, you know what. I'm done with crying for today. I can't handle any more crying." 

"All right." 

"And tomorrow I'm calling my dad. My ex-husband said he wasn't looking too great, getting old and all that, so I'm calling him tomorrow." 

"They're in touch?" 

"I come from a small village," Natasha told him. "Everybody knows everybody and _everybody_ knows my dad." She pecked Clint's cheek. "I think it's time to tell him he's got another grandchild on the way." 

"Yeah, sure. Your dad isn't scary, is he?" 

"He's an old Russian man who has lived through the last few years of Stalin up through the fall of the Soviet union and more," Natasha said. "He's my dad. He's probably invincible." 

"Aren't dads supposed to be?" Clint squeezed her knee. "You know, I was planning on walking this disaster dog and getting take-out on the way back, so why don't I do that? Should I bring you something?" 

She shook her head. "No, I don't really want anything. I'll grab a shower while you're out." She gave him a brief kiss. "You can start thinking of baby names." 

"Francis," Clint said. 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "What if it's a girl?" 

"Francine? Frances?" Clint frowned. "I don't know." He shrugged. Lucky tried to climb into his lap.

"Go. Take the dog out." Natasha pushed him away. "We'll talk about your baffling choice of names later."

***

Bucky's phone rang and he wiped his hands (almost) clean on a oily rag before picking it out of his back pocket.

"Becky, hey," he said, but was pretty abruptly cut off.

"I have important news! Do you have plans today? When are you home? Can I come over?" 

"Uh, no plans, yes you can come over...what's going on?"

"I can't tell yet! I'll see you later today! Have food!" She hung up and Bucky was left standing there staring at the phone in his hand and trying to process what had just happened.

"Something wrong?" Jim asked from the next work station over.

"Just my sister." He shook his head and put his phone away. "I don't know, man." 

He'd only just gotten out of the shower back home, when Becky showed up, knocking very loudly and very impatiently on the front door. 

"What…? Are we expecting someone?" Steve asked, looking up from the sketch he was doing.

"Becky," Bucky explained and went to let her in.

"What took you so long?" Becky accused, streaking in right past him. She was holding a tablet in her hands, skype app open. "Rachel is going to call _any minute now_." She kicked off her shoes and didn't even bother taking off her jacket. "It's so exciting!"

Bucky stared at her for a full ten seconds, then asked, slowly, "Becky. Is Rachel getting married?"

She gasped. "You don't know that! It could be _anything_ , you know."

"She's been with the same guy for the past ten years and they have two kids together," Bucky said. "I figured any exciting news were either A, a new baby on the way or B, they're getting married. My money's on wedding."

"Dare I ask who is Rachel?" Steve asked from the sofa.

"She's our sister!" Becky explained excitedly, plomping down by his side, tablet on her knees. "I swear Bucky tells you nothing."

"I did tell him about my sisters," Bucky protested. "You, Rachel _and_ Charlotte."

"You did," Steve agreed, then turned to Becky. "It's only that I know another Rachel and I didn't think it could be her. Riley's sister Rachel," he explained, at her questioning look. "The surrogate mum to be."

"Oh! Right, yes, you told me. Hush now, she's calling! Get your ass over here, Bucky!" She waved him over and answered the call with her other hand. "RACHEL!" she screamed in greeting.

"Becky!" Rachel-on-the-screen said. "Do you have our brother with you?"

"Like I promised! _Get over here_ , I swear to god," Becky said, and dragged Bucky close so that he too appeared on the small screen.

"Hey, Rachel," Bucky said, grinning. "Good to see you. How's life in Korea?"

Rachel grinned back at them, her smile uncannily similar to Bucky's. "Life's good. I have some news." She cleared her throat. "I'm getting married -"

"I knew it!" Bucky punched Becky's shoulder. "I told you so!"

"You didn't say shit!" Becky retorted, punching him back. "You said it was a fifty/fifty thing!"

"Guys!" Rachel called, laughing. "Stop!"

"Sorry," Becky said, turning back to face the tablet. "I'm so happy for you! That's amazing! When is the wedding?"

"That's the other thing," Rachel said. "It's this summer, June twenty-seventh. I'd like you both to be there, if you can get the time off work. Dad says he'll pay for your flights, also your plus ones." Her smile softened. "It'd mean a lot to me if you could come, Bucky. You're my big brother and I miss you."

"I miss you too, Rach. I'll see what I can do about getting the time off."

"Great. Look, I've got to go to work, so talk to you both later? I'm sending the official invites in the post tomorrow, so...see you!"

"See you!" Becky said and waved. Bucky waved too, over her shoulder.

Rachel ended the call and Becky closed the tablet. "I'm so stoked right now!" 

"I can tell," Bucky said. "Did you say you wanted food? We were going to order pizza if you wanted to stay for dinner." 

"I did, but then I unexpectedly got a date, so I've actually got to dash if I'm going to make it," Becky said and jumped off the sofa. She pecked Bucky's cheek, then Steve's. "Be seeing you both!" 

And then she was gone as fast as she'd come.

"Is Becky _always_ like this?" Steve mused. "I've only met her a handful of times, but it seems to me she's always this...energetic."

"Oh yes," Bucky said. "Though she was worse as a toddler. You couldn't pin her in one place for very long." He dropped into the sofa next to Steve, leaning over to look at his sketchpad. "Looks good."

"Thanks." Steve leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. "Looks like you're going to Korea for a wedding."

"Mmh, if I can get the time off - wait, you're not coming with me?" 

"I have to defend my thesis project on the twenty-sixth and then the graduation ceremony is on my birthday of all days," Steve said. "I can't. But you should go."

"Oh." Bucky turned the dates over. "Suppose I go for a week…. I can probably leave on the 25th, then I'll be flying back on the 2nd, maybe the 3rd, so I'll be back in time for your birthday and your graduation. Doesn't that work out?" He flicked through the calendar on his phone. "What do you think?"

"Even better if you take off a little earlier," Steve said. "I'll probably be up to my ears with work that close to the defense, so I wouldn't be fun to be around anyway."

"I'll run it by the guys and work something out. What do you want on your pizza?"

"The usual. Oh! Riley texted me while you were in the shower. His birthday party is two weeks from now and we're not allowed to bring gifts and definitely _not_ cards that say 'happy 40th birthday'." 

"Wait, Riley's _forty_? I thought he was like, I don't know, thirty-two. My age."

"Oh, he is. Well, thirty-three, I guess. It's an inside-joke," Steve explained. "The you kinda should've been there kind."

"Okay. Is there something we _should_ bring? Food? Booze?"

"Just booze, I think." Steve shrugged. "It's a casual party, there'll only be a handful of people there."

***

"That was the last of it," Loki said, gently wiping off excess ink and a little blood. "It's all done now." He gestured for Bucky to go look in the mirror.

The entire sleeve was filled in now, the new parts shiny and sore - the star on the round of his shoulder was bright red and beautiful.

"I love it," Bucky said. "Thank you. It…" he turned his arm this way and that. "It's perfect."

"I'm glad." Loki smiled, his smile bright and genuine. "Do you need me to give you the after-care run down?"

"Nah, I'm good. It's not that hard to remember." 

They wrapped up his arm in saran wrap, and Loki gave him the after-care pamphlet anyway. 

"Come back when it's healed to see if we need to touch up anything. I'd also like to take some photos for my portfolio," Loki said.

"Yeah, of course." Bucky shook his hand. "Seriously man, thank you. It looks so much better than I'd hoped for. I love it." 

Loki went to relieve Sif of her shift behind the counter, but he was smiling in a somewhat self-satisfied manner. 

Steve was in the back room cleaning his tools so Bucky went to find him. He snaked his arms around Steve from behind, looking over his shoulder. 

"Finished soon?" he asked. "My arm's all done." 

Steve put down the tea towel and turned to see. "It looks good from here." He turned Bucky's arm. "Oh, the star - I thought it was going to be black." He peered at it through the plastic. "It's...red?"

"Yeah, it's red. It's for Natasha, actually. Don't tell her, she'll probably kill me." 

"I don't see that she would." Steve got up on his toes to kiss him. "I think it's great." Another kiss. "I'm almost done here, so if you wanna hang out, maybe change the music or something, I'll just finish up and we can go."

"Yep." Bucky kissed him again, his hands on Steve's hips and holding him in place. "Although I don't seem able to stop kissing you." 

"One more kiss then," Steve said against Bucky's lips, but he didn't stop either.

It was only when Sif came into the back room to fetch a bottle of water from the fridge and made a noise at them that they stopped making out against the kitchen counter.

Bucky did not care in the least.

***

Steve's phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he reached over to pick it up and turn the alarm off. Then he slowly untangled himself from Bucky and trudged into the bathroom.

He'd been uncharacteristically quiet for a few weeks - ever since Riley's birthday party - and when he had time off from the shop and thesis project, and wasn't working on his webcomic, he slept. Or curled up with Bucky on the sofa, staring unseeingly at the TV. He didn't draw. He only reacted to alarms on his phone (Bucky had spotted some of them, they were mundane things like "brush teeth" or "check email") or to direct prompting from other people.

When Steve didn't come back from the bathroom, Bucky decided enough was enough and went to see what was up.

"Steve?" He knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"

No answer.

"I'm coming in," Bucky announced and pushed the door open.

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the sink. His phone was buzzing on the counter; "wash face" and "put on pyjamas" ringing simultaneously. 

A chill went down Bucky's back. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting down next to Steve. "What happened?"

He shrugged. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," Bucky protested. "You haven't been yourself for a while. And we haven't had sex in three weeks either, which is totally out of the ordinary for you and me."

"Oh." Steve frowned. "You want sex? Okay… I'll just wash up first…" he gestured at the sink, but made no move to get up.

"What? No! That's not what I meant!" Bucky stared at him. "Steve, _seriously_. What's wrong?"

"There's nothing -"

"Bullshit," Bucky cut him off. "There's something not right." He nudged Steve. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. Just say so. But I'm really hoping you'll just tell me."

Steve looked at his hands, but didn't say anything. A third alarm went off on his phone. 

"Please turn that off," he said. "It's freaking me out."

"Yeah, okay." Bucky turned off all the alarms Steve's phone and put it back.

"The thing is," Steve started, but then paused. Swallowed. "I have depression. That's it. I've always had it, it's just...I'm usually fine, but then..."

"Oh." Bucky looked at him, at Steve's tired face and the way his hands were clenched in his lap. "I didn't realise. So...how come I didn't know about it before?" 

Steve shrugged. "I haven't had a slump like this in a couple of years. Guess I thought I'd beat it. I mean, I know it's not really something you can just beat, but things have been going so well for so long that I thought, maybe…" He sighed. "I've had a couple of small slumps since I met you, but those are...well, not _easy_. But I can fake through them a little easier." He looked up. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to find out."

"Why not?" Bucky frowned, not really understanding. "Are you _ashamed_?"

"Maybe a little. I...yeah. Yes." Steve shrugged again. "I just...I turn into this… husk? This husk of a person, you know? Like… I can't bring myself to care about anything. Sad movies don't move me. Happy things don't cheer me up. My libido is gone. My appetite is gone. I do my work, I get up and I go to work or to college, but it feels like I'm a robot doing these things. This is who I become. And I don't like that person, but at the same time I can't bring myself to care. I just want to sleep and pretend I don't exist."

"Oh." Bucky was quiet, mulling over the things Steve had said. "I'm not sure I understand -"

"I didn't expect you to," Steve said.

"Let me finish." He nudged Steve, gently. "I was going to say, I'm not sure I understand what it's like, but I love you all the same and I hope you know that. Even if your brain is making things hard for you right now."

Steve nodded. "Thank you," he said, quietly. "That means a lot to me."

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Yeah, sure."

"So, uhm. Are you on antidepressants or something? Or getting any kind of professional help?" 

"No antidepressants. They mess with my heart and blood pressure," Steve explained. "I was on them very briefly about four-five years ago or so. I had a really, really bad slump - much worse than now - and couldn't see any way out of it so my doctor put me on them anyway. But I went into cardiac arrest and nearly died for the billionth time in my life and naturally ended up in the hospital, so. I lost a whole semester and wouldn't have had a place to live if it hadn't been for Sam. So. Yeah. No antidepressants for me." He gave Bucky a small smile and squeezed his hand. "But I _am_ seeing a therapist. I go on Thursdays, leave the studio early and go see her. It helps a little."

"Today's Thursday," Bucky observed. "But I came to pick you up at college."

"I know. Her office is close to campus. It's very convenient." Steve sighed. "So...well. That's it. Now you know all there is to know about me."

Bucky leaned into Steve's shoulder a little. "Is there anything I can do?"

Steve shook his head. "No. Just...keep being you. That's all I need." He laced his fingers with Bucky's. "I don't think I would've gotten out of bed this morning if it hadn't been for you."

"You wouldn't, hm? What did I do?"

"You woke me with kisses. And then you said 'wakey wakey eggs and bakey' or something like that, and then you got me coffee in bed. And you'd made weekend breakfast even if it was just a Thursday. And you called me sleepypie."

"Guilty as charged," Bucky said, grinning. "I did do all of those things."

"It was nice. It made the rest of the day seem like less of a climb." Steve let go and stood up, finally picking up his toothbrush. "I'm going to bed. I know it's a little earlier than you like to sleep, but...wanna join me?"

"Dude, do you even have to ask," Bucky said, grabbing his own toothbrush. 

They got ready for bed, and even shared a few toothpaste kisses. Bucky turned off all the lights in the flat and double checked that the front door was locked before he joined Steve, curling up around him and nuzzling his cheek, because it usually never failed to make Steve laugh a little.

"Are you upset about the lack of sex lately?" Steve asked him. It was dark, so Bucky couldn't see his face, but he thought he looked worried.

"I was, a little," he answered. "I was beginning to think something was wrong with me. But mostly I was worried."

"I'm sorry for neglecting you," Steve said, turning towards him. "I didn't realise it'd been this long."

"It's not a big deal," Bucky protested. "I'm okay, really."

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm not about to perish or anything. You take care of you. We have all the time in the world to touch dicks, you know."

"Charming," Steve said, but he was smiling. "Okay, then."

***

Sam assaulted Steve the second he came home.

"Steve," he said, seriously, "Riley's at the VA being inspiring and shit and you're like, actually getting out of your depressive funk now, so I'm stealing half an hour of your time because we need to have a man to man talk."

"What?" Steve stared. "Man to man talk? Are you… joking?"

"Leave your webcomic be for a bit and come sit with me?" Sam gestured at the sofa. He'd decked the coffee table with herbal tea (gross) and white chocolate & cranberry cookies (low blow, Sam, _low blow_ ). "Please."

Steve dropped his messenger bag and his jacket, and then dropped himself on the sofa. "Okay. What's it about?" 

"So… Rachel is having her second insemination tomorrow," Sam said. "We don't _want_ to kick you out, and it wouldn't be for a while -"

"I'm moving in with Bucky," Steve said, grabbing a small handful of cookies. He stuffed half a cookie in his mouth. "Good talk." 

"Huh." Sam peered at him. "When did you decide?"

"A while ago. Didn't I say?" Steve polished off the rest of the first cookie. "As soon as Natasha has moved out, I'm moving in, and she's moving out at the end of July."

"That was a short talk," Sam said, breathing out in relief.

"Mmh. Why all the fuss? It's not like I didn't know you were going to turn my room into a nursery."

"It's not every day you tell your best mate to pack up and leave," Sam said. "So you're cool?"

"Totally cool," Steve answered. "How are you and Riley holding up?"

Sam was quiet. "We're okay, most of the time. Anxious. Trying not to be too hopeful." 

"It's going to be fine, you know that, right?"

"I know. It's Riley I'm worried about. It means a lot to him. I don't blame him, I imagine I would feel the same way if I were in his shoes." Sam sighed. "I'm not the one with a limited amount of ammo, you know? So I'm praying it'll work out with the IVF treatments, because if it doesn't… he'll be devastated."

"It's only the second treatment," Steve said, in an attempt to be reassuring. "I know you know this, but, you know. If this one doesn't work out, you'll have a third go. And a fourth."

"We may not have a fifth, if it comes to it." Sam poured himself some tea. "We're trying not to think about it.

Steve ate his cookies in silence, and Sam sipped his tea.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Who proposed? Was it you or Riley?"

"Why're you asking?"

"Just curious." Steve shrugged, eyeing the last cookie on the plate. He snatched it up before Sam could get to it.

"I did." 

Steve looked at him. "Were you scared?"

"Out of my mind," Sam answered. "I don't know that I've been that scared since I was in active service. Why? Are you thinking of proposing?"

"Maybe." Steve shrugged, half-carelessly, but he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. "I thought about it. Did you know he was going to say yes?"

"I was sure of it."

"You were scared anyway?"

"Yeah, man. I was seventeen hundred percent sure, but I was still scared he was gonna turn me down." Sam nudged him. "I'm pretty sure your man is gonna say yes."

"You don't know that." Steve avoided Sam's eyes. "I thought Peggy was gonna say yes, you know. I was sure of it. I thought…well. Doesn't matter. She said no and went and married someone else."

"You know that's not why she left you," Sam said, gently nudging Steve. 

"I know."

"Bucky's not gonna be a repeat performance. He'd be an idiot if he did, and I don't think he's an idiot."

"I'm not sure I want to take the risk." Steve made an effort to smile. "We're good the way we are."

Sam held up his hands. "Each to his own," he said. "But for what it's worth, I don't think he's gonna run for the hills. He looks at you like you hung the goddamn moon."

Steve smiled. "He does, that's true. Hey, are you cooking today? Bucky's coming over and I promised him dinner."

"I don't know what you're going to do once you move out. I feed you two so often you'd think I'm your mother," Sam complained. 

"I'll come over every weekend for dinner," Steve said, laughing. "No, but he's coming over tonight. He likes to hang out in the chat when I livestream. Talking to my fans. _Stealing_ my fans."

Sam shook his head. "Yes, I'm cooking, and yes I'll make dinner for four."

***

Steve had had Skype open for three hours already, waiting for Bucky to call him. While waiting he was finishing the coverart for the final chapter of his webcomic out of pure anxiety - the defense outline for his thesis project wasn't working out quite the way he wanted it to, and he had to go and defend it in just under a week.

Thinking about it was making his throat seize up.

Absolutely nothing was happening with Skype.

Another hour passed and Steve had come up with an idea for a new webcomic of sorts. He was toying with the idea of just withdrawing the thesis project and submitting his webcomic as the thesis project instead, weighing pros and cons and all the possible ways his thesis supervisor would react. Not to mention the fact it was technically impossible at this stage.

It was when he was thinking about all those things that the call finally happened.

"Bucky, hey," Steve said, relief rushing through him. "You look like shit."

"I miss you too," Bucky said. "I'm jetlagged as hell. I feel like shit." He sighed, leaning a little closer to the screen. "What're you doing?"

"Stuff," Steve said, evasively. "How was your flight?"

"There were no crying children or smelly people." Bucky grinned. "It's nice to see your face, cutiepie, but I'm gonna go again. It's six am here, and the others went back to bed, so I'm also gonna try and get some sleep."

"Okay. Say hello from me. Call me later?"

"Yep. Good luck with your thesis defense. Tell me all about it later. I'll try to call again later today, if you're still up."

Bucky signed off, and Steve was left staring at the screen, feeling more tired than before. 

He went to join Sam and Riley in front of the TV.

***

The second IVF treatment failed and Steve took half a day off from figuring out a defense strategy for his thesis project to commiserate. (Also, there was ice cream in large quantities as well as dumb movies.)

***

Bucky's first flight was delayed so he missed his connecting flight in Shanghai, and had to wait in the airport for about twelve hours before he could get a flight out from Shanghai to New York.

This was the reason why he made it to Steve's graduation ceremony (only) ten minutes late, and with a half-wilted airport bouquet and a suitcase in tow.

"You're late," Natasha hissed at him. 

"I know," Bucky hissed back," eyes scanning the lineup to find Steve. "Has he -"

"Not yet," Natasha said. "You're damn lucky. What the hell happened?"

"Didn't you get my texts? Damn flight was delayed. I only just got here!"

Some grey-haired mother-type shushed them, so Bucky went back to finding Steve in the lineup. He spotted him quickly, so he looked around to see who else had showed up for the ceremony. Clint was there, with Natasha, as were Sam and Riley, Peggy and Gabe, Carol and Jess, all of the Commandos, and a bunch more of their friends. A nice group.

Steve came to meet them after the ceremony was over, immediately spotting Bucky.

"Hey," Bucky said, dropping the suitcase to sweep him up into a crushing hug. "Happy birthday." He kissed him. "And congrats on graduating. You're now officially -"

"Don't say it," Steve warned.

"But I want to. Please."

"Say what?" Riley asked. 

Steve was shaking his head at Bucky wildly, but Bucky only grinned and turned to Riley. "All-American-pie," he said, happily. 

Riley, Sam and Jess cracked up laughing, Clint looked at Bucky in confusion and whispered _what did he say?_ to Natasha, and Steve only sighed, shaking his head. 

"You made it," he said to Bucky, deciding to ignore everything to do with 'All-American-pie'. "I wasn't sure you would." 

"I did, and I brought you these, and that's all, I'm afraid." Bucky handed him the bouquet, which had wilted even more in the strong July sun. "Sorry about that."

"Disgusting," Natasha said, but she was smiling. "All right, Steve. I'd hug you and congratulate you, but I'm not sure your boyfriend is ready to let you go yet."

Bucky blew a raspberry at her, but let Steve go so that he could be congratulated in turn by all their friends.

"You have any plans for the rest of the day?" Riley asked.

"Not really," Steve admitted.

"Great! My mom made you a cake," Riley said. "So we're going to have a joint 4th of July barbecue slash graduation party slash birthday party at Mom's place, if everyone's up for that."

"Oh." Steve blinked. "That's nice of her. Why'd she do that?"

"I may have let it slip that your parents are dead," Riley said, putting up an innocent face. "So she made you a cake. Also for that time you waited with her in the hospital after my accident," he added, a tad more serious. "Stop that, you're not allowed to cry."

"I'm not crying," Steve protested, but his eyes were definitely too bright and shiny. "Okay, so. Who's driving with whom?"

"I'm taking Nat and up to three more if people don't mind squeezing tight on the back seat," Clint announced. "I also have room in the trunk for the suitcase." 

They had three cars between them as well as Steve's motorcycle, and eventually everyone was sorted with either a ride or directions to the house. Bucky rode with Steve on the bike. 

The party was _awesome_.

Jetlag, thirty hours of travel, and alcohol turned out to be a bad mixture. Bucky was hungover for two days.

***

"I'm not sure I'm human," Bucky said, wringing his hair out in a towel. "I feel like ooze."

"I made you food," Steve told him. "Well. Actually it's less like food and more like dessert."

"I'll take anything right now." Bucky hung up the towel and then deposited himself on the sofa. "Steeeve, have you ever been hungover for three days? Because I think it's happening. To me."

"Maybe." Steve brought over a tin of cookies. "These have bacon in them."

"Bacon cookies? You're a genius and I love you," Bucky breathed, inhaling two cookies so fast that he might as well have vanished them in thin air.

Steve watched him eat, delighted smile on his face.

"So, artist boy," Bucky said, "how are you feeling?"

"Free," Steve said, gnawing on a cookie. "A little like I don't know what to do with myself."

"Good feeling, though?"

"Mhh. A bit better now that I no longer have to look after your sorry ass," Steve said. "I can't believe it, my first two days of complete freedom, and I spent them fetching you food and ice." He poked Bucky in the side. "You should be ashamed."

"I'm not," Bucky countered, which made Steve elbow him instead. "Okay, maybe I am a little." He grabbed a handful of cookies. "I _am_ sorry, you know. I'd planned all kinds of amazing birthday sex for you and all, and then I ended up spending the evening in the can."

"You had, had you?" Steve raised an eyebrow, mirth dancing in his eyes. "I recall you muttering about airplane food and cake in between retching. I think you passed out at one point."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Bucky nudged him. "Did _you_ have a nice party? I saw you talking to Carol a lot."

"Mmh, I did." 

"Still crushing on her? Or Jess?"

"Not so much anymore." Steve sighed. "It was nice while it lasted." 

"So...you don't want to be getting it on with -"

"It's not about sex," Steve cut him off. "This poly thing, it's not about sex, and I need you to understand that."

Bucky paused, looking at him. "I know that."

"No, I don't think you do. Because you keep asking if I want to do this or that, sometimes to a point where you're almost pushing me to," Steve said, putting down the cookie tin. It made a rather loud noise as it came down on the table. "I'm polyamorous, emphasis on the _amorous_ part. For me it's about love, not sex, it's about being capable to love more than one person, not about wanting to have sex with more than one person."

Silence.

"Do you feel that I'm pushing you?" Bucky asked, tentatively.

Steve sighed, rubbing his face. "Yeah, I do. Sometimes. You do bring it up an awful lot."

"I'm sorry. I just…suppose I don't want you to feel you can't, just because you're with me, you know?" Bucky nudged him. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, but I've also said that I don't want more than one relationship, haven't I?" Steve grimaced. "So we _are_ having that talk, apparently."

"I don't think it's a bad thing to have that talk," Bucky argued.

"Look," Steve said. "Last time I had a poly relationship people got hurt and it got really ugly for everybody involved and I'm _never_ doing that again." He drew in a deep breath. "I don't want a repeat performance and I definitely do not want to hurt you."

"Who says I'll get hurt?"

Steve shrugged. "Last time, one of the people said they were okay with it, even if they'd said earlier that they didn't really like sharing, so they weren't actually okay with it, but just...well, thought they were, or pretended to be… I believe they tried, really tried, but they were actually really hurt and jealous deep down, and we fought all the time and their friendship with our entire circle was ruined, and…" he trailed off. "My datemate and my girlfriend had a fight and stopped speaking to each other and the guy I was sort of hoping to introduce to the two of them smelled the disaster right off the bat, so he left, and then my girlfriend broke up with me and my datemate moved across the country, even if it was just the two of us at that point, because - in their words - they couldn't trust me anymore."

"I'm sorry," Bucky said quietly. "I didn't know it could be that...complicated."

"Yeah, it was… not fun." Steve rubbed his face again. "It's a shame. Bernie was great. I do miss her sometimes. My girlfriend at the time," he explained, at Bucky's inquiring look. "And to be completely honest, I don't think you are as okay with it all as you say you are."

Bucky brushed crumbs off his t-shirt so that he wouldn't have to look at Steve. "You're right," he said, quietly. "I'm not." He looked up. "I'm sorry, Steve. I really am. But I don't want you to have other relationships. I don't want you to want other people, I just want you to want me. Just me."

"I do want only you," Steve said, reaching for his hand. "I don't want other people if it means I'll lose you for it."

"You can't control that," Bucky said. "You said so yourself. You can't control who you fall in love with." 

"That's true." Steve squeezed his hand. "I can't control that. But right now? You are the only one."

Bucky frowned. "What about Peggy and Sam?" 

"We've talked about Sam."

"Peggy, then." 

Steve sighed. "I love her. I can't deny it. But not like I used to."

"So if she showed up on your doorstep and asked you, would you say no?" Bucky asked. He was squeezing Steve's hand a little harder than he realised.

"I would," Steve said. "What we had is in the past. And even if… No, I wouldn't go back. I don't think I could."

"But would you _want_ to?" Bucky pressed.

Steve looked him in the eye. "This is really important to you, isn't it?" 

"I can't help it!" Bucky let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm - I'm scared! Okay? I'm just scared."

"You don't need to be," Steve told him, bringing Bucky's hands to his lips. "To answer your question: no. I don't want to get back with Peggy again. I don't want to be with anybody else but you."

"Oh..."

"Are you all right?" 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I'm sorry about all this, I just…" Bucky shrugged. "You know."

"I know." Steve gave him a soft smile. "Now come on, kiss me. I want a kiss." He pulled him close, putting both his hands in Bucky's hair. His hair was still moist. "Nice," Steve murmured. "You forgot to brush your teeth."

"Ugh," Bucky said, but kissed him anyway.

"So," Steve said. "Does that mean now you'll stop trying to make me go out with people?" 

"Yeah, I suppose it does," Bucky answered. 

"Good. Because that was really bothering me." Steve leaned in to kiss his nose. 

"Will you still tell me about your crushes?" 

"If you want, then sure." 

"Yeah, I do."

"Okay." Steve nudged him. "Do you maybe want to go brush your teeth and then come with me to the shop? Thor said he'd bring the baby round today."

"They've already had the baby?" 

"Last week. While you were in Korea. Tell me about Korea and your sister's wedding on the way. I feel like walking today and I need to swing by the pharmacy anyway."

***

"Where are all these boxes coming from?" Riley poked a tower of boxes with his crutch. "Did you have this many boxes when you moved in? Sam, did Steve have this much crap when he moved in?"

"Those all have clothes in," Steve said, appearing from behind the tower of boxes, carrying a stack of framed sketches and prints. He dumped them in an open box sitting next to the tower. "I don't have that much stuff."

"I don't believe you," Sam said. "I've seen what it looks like under your bed."

"What does it look like under Steve's bed and why do you know what it looks like?" Riley peered over Sam's shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever inhabited the space beneath Steve's bed.

"You know, if you would help me with this shit, you'd get your nursery a lot sooner," Steve told them.

"Shut up," Sam said.

"I need help with dismantling the desk," Steve said. "I've emptied out the drawers and everything." He indicated two boxes standing in the doorway to his room. "And then the bed."

"Why isn't your handyman boyfriend here to help you?" 

"My handyman boyfriend is at work," Steve said.

"Since when does Bucky work Saturdays?"

"Cars are known to break down on Saturdays." Steve picked up the boxes in the doorway and deposited them on the coffee table. "He's covering Monty's shift, he called in sick."

"Did you clean out from under your bed?"

Steve pointed at the bed. Three boxes were sitting on top of it, all open, with various frames and rolled up posters and the like sticking out of them. "I told you I've packed everything."

The desk took full two hours to dismantle, in part because Steve couldn't find the manual and in part because the thing was so hideously old that the resin in the wood had sort of caused the desk to glue itself together. It made it exceptionally hard to make the individual bits come apart. 

When they'd dismantled the bedframe and carried the pieces out of the bedroom, Bucky showed up with a van he'd borrowed from the garage, and they loaded it up with all of Steve's things. 

"Is that it, then?" Riley stood in the doorway to Steve's room, now completely bare, if a little dusty. "I was sure the room was bigger than I thought it was, but it looks just as small as it did when it had your stuff crammed in here." 

"I did fit a desk and a small double bed in there," Steve said. "I think I managed pretty well."

"Why are you taking the bed anyway? Doesn't Bucky have one that actually fits two adult people in it?"

"Seems stupid to get rid of a perfectly good bed," Steve argued. "I'm putting it into my studio. Guests could sleep on it, or something."

"Or you could nap on it," Riley pointed out.

"I don't nap," Steve said, and Sam snorted. "I don't!"

"You totally nap," Bucky said, having come up from loading the last box into the van. "Do you have everything?"

Steve made a face at him. "I've almost got everything. Hang on." He fetched an old and chipped grandmother mug from the kitchen and a small bag of toiletries from the bathroom. He put both into his messenger bag. "Now I'm ready."

Nobody moved.

Sam and Riley only stood there, looking at Steve, like they didn't really know what to say.

"Nobody's allowed to cry," Steve said, going over to give each of them a tight hug. "Oh, before I forget - my key." He loosened it off his keychain and gave it to Riley. 

"No more paint splatters on the floor," Sam said, grinning despite the shininess of his eyes. "I can't complain about that."

"I never put so much as a single spot on the floor," Steve pointed out. "So shut your mouth."

"I do know one thing," Riley said, eyes twinkling. "The coffee consumption in this house is going way down."

"Ha ha." Steve punched him in the arm. "I'm _leaving_. See you guys later."

In the van, on the short ride over to Bucky's flat, Steve may have had to blink back a tear or two.

Clint was about to pull out on the street, car loaded, when Bucky and Steve turned up, so he stopped the car and stepped out. 

"Hey guys!" He gestured at the car. "Just taking the last load," he said. "Nat's at the house unpacking things, she said she'd come over tomorrow to pick up the cat. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Bucky eyed Clint speculatively. "You know, if you stick around for another half hour and help me with this lot," he gestured at the van behind him, "there's beer and pizza in it for you."

"Haven't I carried enough things for the day?" Clint grumbled. "You do know I had to carry Nat's wardrobe downstairs all by myself?"

"If it's any consolation, I don't have a wardrobe," Steve told him. "And I'll be helping."

Clint caved. "Let me text Nat, and I'll be there," he said. "Make it just the one beer."

***

Steve was sitting on the living room floor, where the sofa used to sit - he still couldn't believe Nat had taken the damn sofa, of all things - and was making faces at what looked like the draft for a job application.

"I don't think I want to apply for jobs anymore," he said, when Bucky sat down next to him. 

"That's what you said last week," Bucky told him, and handed him his coffee. "What's the matter with this one?"

"There's nothing the matter." Steve sipped his coffee. "I'm just being an obstinate picky bastard. All things considered I'm pretty well off, you know? I have a job, I'm making money, I have very little college debt thanks to scholarships and the college fund my parents set up for me… I feel like an ungrateful person just because the job I have is not the one I want."

"I thought you liked tattooing?" Bucky asked. "Didn't you get your license in undergrad?"

"Yeah. I do like it, and it brings in the cash, it's just…I only took that licence so I could pay bills while in college." Steve sighed. "It's ironic, isn't it? I never actually wanted to be an artist at all," Steve said, taking off his glasses to rub the heel of his hands against his eyes. "Did I tell you?"

"No, you didn't." Bucky paused. "You know, it seems pretty silly to spend three years on getting a Master of Fine Arts degree when you don't want to be an artist."

Steve looked at him. "I didn't go to college expecting to walk out an artist. It was my minor to begin with - no actually, it wasn't even that. I just took a few classes. I just went to college without any idea what I wanted to do. I took a couple of different classes - war studies, psychology, social sciences, English literature, tree climbing, you name it." Steve shrugged. "I took the art classes because I wanted to learn how to draw better. Then people said I was good at it, and then I made it my major because I didn't really know what else to do, and then somehow I ended up in grad school. I now have two art degrees that I never set out to get and a tattoo license." 

"Steve," Bucky asked, bumping their shoulders together. "Are you having a crisis?"

"Maybe a little?" Steve grimaced.

"You're an artist now, whether you like it or not," Bucky told him. "Is that so bad?"

"No." Steve shook his head. "I like it. I wouldn't have stuck with it if I didn't. I'm just wondering how I ended up here. I don't want to tattoo for the rest of my life and never do anything else, you know?"

"Mmmh." Bucky took a sip of coffee from Steve's mug. "You do do other stuff, though. What about your webcomic? That stuff's _awesome_. You're going to comic con again this year, right?" 

"Yeah. By then I'll have wrapped it all up, the story finished and all." Steve smiled. "I've another one I'm starting after comic con, and it's going to be really cool."

"But?"

"I don't exactly make a living off my webcomic," Steve said, shrugging. "It's fun and I've learned a lot about making comics in the past five years, but I can't figure out how to make the jump from there to doing it professionally in the industry. I feel like I've left my portfolio and resume everywhere, and nobody's called me back yet."

"Maybe you should tattoo comics on people," Bucky said, and Steve punched him in the shoulder. "All right, all right! How about this. Leave your job applications and career crisis alone for an afternoon and come with me to the beach? Let's get sunburned. You've been holed up in the tattoo shop all summer."

"Coney Island?" Steve asked, nose scrunched up. "There's always so many people there."

"I was thinking Fort Tilden, actually," Bucky said. "It's a lot less crowded. I've packed some food already, come on."

Steve regarded him thoughtfully. "I'm taking my sketchbook," he said, with an air of finality about it.

***

In early September Steve was commissioned to illustrate a children's book - his very first job out of college - so he went out with Bucky and the commandos for drinks to celebrate.

A couple of hours into getting thoroughly sloshed, Sam and Riley turned up with good news and then it became a _real_ party.

***

"Hey, Nat," Bucky said, looking up from the car engine he was fixing. "What's up? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I just came from my last scan. I wanted to talk to you about something," she said. "Do you have a couple of minutes?"

"Is everything okay?" Bucky wiped his hands on the least oily rag he could find, and gestured for her to follow him into the break room. 

"I'm fine and there's nothing wrong with the baby," she said, waddling over to the sofa. "I just need to talk to you about something." 

He fetched them both some water, and then sat with her. "All right, then. What is it?"

"Our midwife has been talking to Clint and me about what happens when you give birth. In excruciating detail and all," she said. "I've been through it once before, so I know what I'm in for, but Clint is...well, let's put it this way: He's probably going to faint." 

Bucky considered this. "I could see that happen," he agreed. 

"I also don't really want him there, to be honest," Natasha said. "I don't really need him to see all the gross stuff that goes on, and Clint is enough of a wuss that he doesn't really want to either. We've agreed that he stays outside and then he gets to come in once the baby's out."

"Okay. I suppose that's fair enough?" 

"Yeah." Natasha nodded. "The thing is just, I want somebody to be there for me. Last time, I had my dad there, because I didn't have my mum. Now I don't even have my dad because he's an ocean and a continent away," she explained. "And I wanted to ask if you would do it." 

He gaped at her. "Are you sure about this?" 

"Would you?"

"In a heartbeat," Bucky said. "But are you really sure? Wouldn't you rather have Bobbi there? Or Jess?"

"I was going to ask Bobbi only if you said no," Natasha told him. She squeezed his hand. "You're my best friend. I trust you and I love you, and I can't think of anybody else I would rather have with me in a crisis. You're like...you're like this solid rock, you know? You always stay calm."

Bucky was quiet for a while, thinking. "What are people going to think?" he eventually said. "They're going to think I'm the dad, or something."

"I don't care what other people think of me," she said.

"I do. I care what other people think of you," Bucky told her. "And I don't want them to think the wrong thing."

"Is that a no, then?" 

"It's not a no," Bucky protested. "I'll be there, if you're _really_ sure you want me to."

"I'm sure." Natasha gave him a soft smile. "I wouldn't have asked you if I weren't."

"All right, then. We still on for Halloween at your house?" 

"Baby or no baby," she agreed. "Though hopefully with the baby. I don't think I could handle it if I were overdue."

***

"For the billionth time, why don't you just go as James Dean?" Steve said. He was leaning close to the mirror to inspect his make up, then turned around. "Does it look even? I don't think it looks even."

"I think not even David Bowie made it look this even," Bucky told him. "I don't want to go as James Dean. My entire life is basically a James Dean aesthetic," he argued. "It'd be like going as myself."

"Put some gel in your hair and swap the denim jacket out for the leather jacket and you're all set, _with minimal fuss_ ," Steve told him.

"Yeah, whatever." Bucky was inspecting the package of ginger hair dye that Steve had left on the bathroom counter. "Did you say this stuff was going to wash out? Because it says here it's permanent dye." 

"It's not permanent dye," Steve said.

"I'm pretty sure it _is_ permanent dye," Bucky said. He held out the package for Steve to see. "It says right here."

Steve paled significantly, making the lightning bolt on his face stand out sharper. "Well, fuck."

Bucky grinned. "Ready to live life as a ginger?" 

"Shut up." Steve looked at himself in the mirror and made a sad noise. "How long do you suppose it'll take to grow out? Think I can bleach it out?"

"Ask the internet." Bucky was putting gel in his hair and trying to make it look James Dean-ish. "I don't know this stuff."

Steve huffed, but vanished into the studio to check his computer. 

Bucky had done his hair and put on a bit of eyeliner for effect (James Dean totally wore eyeliner, right?), when Steve came back, looking weird in the face.

"All roads closed?" Bucky asked him.

"Ah, no, it's not that," Steve said, weakly. "Remember that editor I spoke to at comic con?" 

"Which one? You spoke to a lot of people, Steve."

Steve didn't even bother answering the question. "I just got an email from her, apparently they want me to draw some variant covers. She didn't say that there might more down the line if it goes well, buuut that's what I'm reading between the lines." 

"Congrats," Bucky said and kissed him. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? Are you going to faint? You look awfully pale."

"I'm not going to faint!" Steve glared at him. "I'm just processing!" 

"Well, look a little happier," Bucky told him with a grin. "You've got a foot in! You're going to make comic book covers!" He poked Steve. "That's fucking awesome."

Steve smiled. "Yeah, I guess so." He shook his head. "All right. Are you ready? We're running a little late."

***

They'd been handing out candy for two hours, when Natasha went into labour.

"Fucking finally," she grunted, staggering out to the car, leaning on Clint as she went.

He sprinted back inside to grab the baby stuff they'd prepared, and then they were off to the hospital, Bucky and Steve following behind on the bike.

"This one's coming with me," Natasha said, pointing at Bucky. "Clint -" She paused, waiting for a contraction to pass. "You'll be okay?"

"I'll be right outside," Clint told her, and kissed her forehead and then her lips. "You'll can do this, you'll be okay. I'll be right outside, okay?" 

She nodded, and then she and Bucky were led into the delivery room.

Steve and Clint looked after them, then at each other. "Coffee?" Steve offered. "I know it's only four in the afternoon, but I can't think of anything else right now."

Clint nodded and took a seat outside Natasha's delivery room. "Coffee sounds great." 

It wasn't until past midnight that things started happening for real. Steve's neatly drawn lightning bolt was smudged and Clint's short cropped hair was in disarray. The floor was littered with empty plastic cups.

Inside the delivery room, Bucky was letting Natasha crush his hand, and he was stroking her hair. 

"You're almost there, Nat. It's almost over," he said, having repeated these words and variations thereof for quite a while already. "You're doing so well, in a bit you'll be a mum again. You're almost there."

Natasha only grunted and pushed and panted, her hair wet and plastered to her face. 

The midwife nodded encouragingly. "Just one more push," she said. "One more - there we go! Oh, you have a baby boy!" She handed him over to the nurse standing next to her for examination, turning back to Natasha.

"You hear that?" Bucky said, trying to squeeze her hand back. 

"He's not crying," Natasha said, looking wild-eyed. Bucky felt a stone drop into his stomach. "Why's he not crying? Why's my baby not crying?"

"One more push," the midwife told her, "just one -"

" _My baby_ -"

"Your baby's fine," the nurse said, the baby choosing that exact moment to let out a loud cry. 

Bucky never thought he would be so happy to hear a baby cry. "Your baby's fine," he repeated after the nurse. He kissed her forehead. "You did it, Nat. You did it."

A few minutes later Natasha had delivered the placenta, the umbilical cord had been cut and the baby was lying naked on Natasha's bare chest. She'd finally let go of Bucky's hand, and was holding her baby instead.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. 

There were people milling about them, setting things straight - Bucky didn't really want to know why they were still rooting about Natasha's vagina, and he didn't want to ask.

"Your baby boy is beautiful," Bucky told her. "Should I go get Clint now?"

Natasha nodded. She didn't look away from the baby.

"Okay." He stood up, a little unsteadily, for having stayed in one position for so long, and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "I'll send Clint in. Then I'm going to take Steve home, let you and Clint have your space, okay? We'll come back tomorrow." 

"Yeah," Natasha said, voice shaky. "Thank you, James. For staying."

"Don't mention it."

Bucky stepped outside, Clint shooting to his feet the moment he saw Bucky.

"Is she - is the baby -"

"You can go in," Bucky told him. "Everything went well. They're both fine."

Clint let out a relieved breath. "Ohhh." He then nodded, and visibly steeled himself. 

"I'm taking Steve home," Bucky told him, clapping him on the shoulder and nudging him none too subtly towards the delivery room. "Just go in, we'll see you tomorrow." 

"Yeah, okay," Clint said and went in. 

Bucky sat down with Steve. 

"How was it?" Steve asked. "I mean, we could hear most of what went on and I think Clint nearly peed himself when we heard the baby cry."

"It was exhausting," Bucky said, sighing a little. "And I didn't even do the hard work. It went well. The baby's fine - they have a boy."

"Is Natasha okay?" 

"Yeah, she is." Bucky nodded, relief and tiredness flooding him. "Come on, let's go home before I start bawling."

***

Steve had framed a couple of the illustrations he'd made for the children's book and wrapped in newspaper, because the only wrapping paper they had on hand had Christmas trees on them, and brought along to the hospital.

"You know you didn't have to, right?" Bucky told him, but Steve had just shrugged.

"I wanted to," he said and handed the gift to Bucky to hold, while he locked up the bike. "They're my friends too. I wanted to give them a nice gift for the baby."

"You're only going to make them cry," Bucky said. 

"Mmmh," Steve agreed. He put a rain cover over the bike and then took back the gift. "I saved the other illustrations for Sam and Riley's baby, when that one comes."

"Speak of the devil. Hey!" Bucky called out. "Over here!" 

Sam, Riley and Rachel came over. They'd just exited the hospital when Bucky had caught sight of them.

"Hey, what's up? Everything all right?" Sam asked.

"Nat had her baby," Bucky told them. "We're here to see them. You guys all right?"

"We just had a scan," Riley said, grinning madly. Rachel looked a little less than pleased. "We found out we're having twins! Can you believe that? Twins!" 

"I did not sign up for twins!" Rachel told him. "Seriously!"

"I'm sorry, sis," Riley said, looking anything but sorry. 

Sam was the only one who looked a little scared. 

"Congrats, man," Bucky told him, giving him a half-hug. "Chin up, you get two for the price of one." 

They exchanged a few pleasantries and congratulations all around, then went their separate ways. 

Natasha was breastfeeding the baby and Clint was looking at them both like a lovesick puppy, when Steve and Bucky found them.

"Hey," Steve said, following Bucky, who'd just gone straight for the baby. "How's everyone?"

"We're good," Natasha said, smiling. She was glowing of happiness. "Let me finish, then I'll let you hold him." 

"Do you have a name for him yet?" Bucky asked, having pulled over the spare chair. He sat in it, then tugged Steve close until Steve relented and sat on his lap. 

"James," Natasha said.

"Francis," Clint added.

"James Francis," Natasha amended. "That's his name." 

"You're joking," Bucky said, but Natasha shook her head. "Did you know about this?" he asked Clint.

Clint only shrugged, but he was smiling.

Steve let his fingers curl around the back of Bucky's neck, idly massaging. "I like it," he said. 

"I still think you're joking," Bucky said. 

"Not at all." Baby James finished feeding, so Natasha lifted him over to Steve and covered up again.

"I'm not sure I should really be holding a baby," Steve said, carefully taking him off her hands. "I've never held one before."

"You have now." 

Bucky peered round Steve to look at the baby. "Hey there, Jamie," he said. "I'm going to be your uncle and I'm going to spoil you rotten."

"Who said you could be uncle?" Clint protested. 

"I'm totally uncle Bucky," Bucky said. "Just try me."

"He's earned the right," Natasha told Clint. "Deal with it."

"Here, take the tiny baby," Steve said, easing off Bucky's lap and holding the baby out to him. "He's so small I'm afraid I'm going to drop him."

Bucky took baby James and cradled him close. He poked his tiny fingers and smiled delightedly when James grabbed his finger. "I already love this little guy," he said, looking up. "I can't even imagine how you guys are feeling."

"A little like my heart is going to burst," Clint said, smiling wide. "I'm not even ashamed to admit it."

"Dork." Natasha reached for his hand. "Okay, give me my baby back now. Next time you can have him for whole ten minutes."

Bucky handed the baby back carefully.

He and Steve stayed for another twenty minutes or so, then headed back home when Clint's brother showed up.

***

Steve went to three different comic book shops to get his hands on a copy that had his variant cover on it. He already had a copy, but seeing it in the shop was something else altogether.

He then framed the copy and hung it up in his studio.

***

Bucky was laid out on the floor in front of baby James, when Steve came home from the shop.

"I didn't know today was a babysitting day," he said, peeling out of his bike leathers. "I brought dinner." 

"Awesome." Bucky didn't look up, but blew a raspberry on James' belly, causing him to giggle loudly. "Clint and Nat needed a few hours without baby, so they dropped him off here," he explained. "They'll be back in about an hour." 

"I hope they bribed you well?" 

"There's ice cream in the freezer," Bucky told him. "Nat said it's for you. The only bribe I need is this little guy. Look at him go." Bucky made a face, and baby James giggled again. 

"You're both very adorable." Steve took the styrofoam boxes out of the bag. "Are you hungry?" 

"Hell yeah." Bucky sat up and pulled a colourful contraption full of dangly plushy things over James, for him to look at instead. "What'd you get?" He got up and went over to wrap his arms around Steve from behind. 

"Chili." Steve turned in his arms. "Hello there, handsome."

"Hello there, cutiepie," Bucky said and kissed him. "I'd suggest we make out like teenagers, but we still don't have a sofa." 

"We don't need a sofa," Steve said, sliding his hands under Bucky's t-shirt. He got up on tiptoes, but Bucky just lifted him up on the counter instead.

"True." Bucky nipped at his lips. "How was your day?" 

"Entertaining. Loki and Thor had a row in the middle of the shop. Very explosive." Steve slid his hands up Bucky's chest, slowly. "How was your day?"

"Just like normal. I might be getting to restore a 1958 Cadillac. The owner is coming in tomorrow to discuss it." 

Baby James started crying.

"Let's make out later," Bucky suggested, a little bit disappointed, and untangled himself. "Jamie probably just needs a change."

"I'll sort dinner," Steve said, and hopped down from the counter.

Bucky picked up the baby and the baby bag with baby things Natasha had left with him, and went to the bathroom.

He'd just put a fresh diaper on him, when Steve appeared in the doorway. "How is he?"

"He's a happy little guy," Bucky said. "He just needed a diaper change." He did up James' onesie and put his tights back on. "I'll be with you in a sec." 

Bucky deposited James back on his baby blanket and went to join Steve for dinner.

"What are we doing for New Year's Eve?"

"You mean what are we doing for your birthday?" Steve pointed out. He blew on his forkful of chili.

"Well, yeah." Bucky shrugged. "Almost all of our friends have babies or are going to have babies," he said. He picked up a forkful of chili, but then put it down again. "The old tradition is pretty much over."

"You don't want to invite all our friends and their babies?" Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. "I thought maybe they'd want to do their own thing and all. I don't know. We can invite them."

"I was planning on taking you out to dinner, actually," Steve told him. "And then I thought we should start the new year with a bang. Literally."

Bucky grinned. "New tradition hereby established." 

They finished dinner quickly; Bucky wanted to go back to playing with James, and Steve wanted to put some work in on his webcomic.

Half an hour into the livestream, Bucky came into the studio with James on his arm. "Are interesting things happening today?" 

"Your fans miss you," Steve told him. "They noticed immediately when you didn't log into chat." 

"Aw, that's cute." Bucky stepped up behind Steve and bent down to wave into the webcam. He also waved James' arm at the camera. "Tell them we say hi." 

"Why don't you come in here? There's plenty of floor space for you two to goof around while I'm working," Steve said, turning to face them. James' flaily little fingers caught Steve's glasses, so Bucky had to wrestle them from him.

"Sorry about that." Bucky kissed Steve's cheek and gave him back his glasses. "I'll be back in a bit." 

A few minutes later Bucky was settled on the floor with James on the baby blanket, toys scattered around. The colourful contraption was there as well.

"Ten more people joined the livestream since you showed up with the baby," Steve told him. "They think James is adorable and won't believe me when I tell them he's not our baby." 

"Really?" Bucky looked up. "He's a cute baby, but he's not as cute as you."

"Oh, I'm cuter than the baby?" Steve didn't look up from his drawing. "The baby you can barely tear your attention away from, even when I'm in the same room?" 

"Are you jealous?" Bucky sounded far too gleeful for his own good. "Are you jealous of the tiny baby?" 

"Nah." Steve looked over his shoulder, amusement written all over his face. "I just enjoy teasing you, Super Uncle Number One." 

"I'm telling you, it's a legit title and rank." 

"Mmmh." 

"Hey, Steve. Let me have your tablet for a bit, I'm gonna log into chat." 

Steve fetched the tablet out of a drawer and handed it over. "Usual rules apply."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Bucky set the tablet down next to James, and logged in. 

**wolfboy** : heeey  
**pixie** : steve says that's not your baby  
**luctargaryen** : enquiring minds would like to know  
**15thpresident** : the baby is my nephew  
**15thpresident** : i'm babysitting him cuz his mum and dad are playing footsie in some restaurant  
**Steve Rogers** : I told you so.  
**15thpresident** : steve is incapable of lying  
**15thpresident** : jsyk  
**15thpresident** : so tell me about the new developments in my fanclub  
**15thpresident** : has a president been elected yet

"I'm pretty sure you don't get a president," Steve said.

"I'm the president of _your_ fanclub," Bucky said. 

"I don't have a fanclub." 

**15thpresident** : somebody quick find me the link for steves fanclub  
**wolfboy** : steverogersisthedreamiest.tumblr.com  
**pixie** : steverogersisthedreamiest.tumblr.com  
**AnnaRed** : steverogersisthedreamiest.tumblr.com  
**15thpresident** : thank you  
**15thpresident** : steve didnt believe me when i told him he has a fanclub

"That's a horrible url," Steve said, frowning at the screen.

"Thank you, I came up with it." 

**luctargaryen** : i got one of your variant covers the other day  
**Steve Rogers** : Cool. Did you like it?  
**luctargaryen** : it's awesome!!  
**luctargaryen** : are you making more?  
**Steve Rogers** : I've been sworn to secrecy.  
**pixie** : oh you *are*!!  
**Steve Rogers** : Nothing is definite. I can't really talk about it yet.  
**15thpresident** : you lot will be the first to know probably 

James got hold of Bucky's hair, which hadn't been cut in quite a while and so was the perfect length for babies to grab and never let go of. Bucky abandoned the tablet and chat as he attempted to get his hair back.

"Ugh. Steve! Some help would be nice," Bucky said. "I can't see what I'm doing - ow! This kid is stronger than he looks. Super baby." Bucky huffed. "Steve!"

"You're on your own," Steve said, having also abandoned his comic to watch Bucky flail. "This is all your own doing. I told you a month ago that you needed a haircut. _A month_."

"I'm going to tell chat - ow! - why you wore a hat for three weeks straight in livestream. I'm sure they'll be delighted to hear the story of your ginger adventure."

"You wouldn't!"

"I'm a desperate man."

Baby James giggled and Bucky swore. Steve laughed and his heart swelled a little.

"All right. I'll help you." Steve got on his knees and very gently managed to untangle James' hands from Bucky's hair. "There you go. I'm pretty sure you should be ashamed. A grown man defeated by a seven week old baby."

Bucky scowled and handed James a rattle to play with instead of his hair. He ran his fingers through his hair, working out the few tangles that James had made. 

"Considering that haircut now?"

"Not really." Bucky eyed the baby suspiciously. "I'll just put it in a ponytail. Eventually."

"Marry me," Steve said, surprising himself. "I mean - do you want to? Marry me?"

Bucky looked up, eyes wide in surprise, and something that looked a lot like confusion. "Did you just…?"

"I...think I did?" Steve tensed up. "I think I just asked you to marry me."

"Okay - yeah," Bucky breathed. "Totally, yeah." A smile spread on his face, bright and radiant. "I'll definitely marry you."

"Oh - good." Steve smiled, then frowned. "You actually want to?"

"What, you didn't think I would?" Bucky got up and gave him a smothering kiss. "I would _love_ to marry you. I fucking love you, Steve, and I'm thrilled you asked." 

"Really?" A slow smile spread on Steve's face. "Wow. Okay. Uhm. So…" 

"That's very eloquent of you," Bucky said and kissed him again. "It's all right, you know? Oh, I forgot, sorry about smooching you on webcam. Although to be fair, you're making it extremely hard for me not to want to make out with you right now."

"Forget about the webcam. I was a little afraid you'd run," Steve admitted. "I didn't even know I was going to ask just now. It just… happened. Not really the way I'd been thinking about doing it." 

Bucky couldn't stop smiling. "Any way you'd asked, I'd still have said yes. I love you, you know? I love you _so much_ it scares me sometimes."

Steve nodded, also smiling now, all nerves gone. "Yeah." He pulled Bucky into another kiss. "I love you too. Wow. We're really doing this." 

"Mmh. We should get rid of the baby and -"

The doorbell rang.

"That better be Nat and Clint," Steve said. "Because I'd like to know what comes after 'and'."

Bucky tore himself away reluctantly. "I'll go get it. You watch the kid."

He left the room, and then came back with Natasha and Clint.

Steve hadn't even really managed to process what happened just yet. He hadn't moved to turn the webcam off, much less found the wherewithal to get up and greet Natasha and Clint.

"It feels like I was away for a week," Natasha said, gathering up her son and smooching him. "Did he have a good time? Mummy missed you, baby boy!"

"He's had a diaper change, and that's all," Bucky told her. "He's been a delight to watch. Now take him and go because I'm planning to fuck Steve into next week. Shoo."

Steve felt a powerful blush coming on. "Buck, come on," he tried, but Bucky ignored him and more or less pushed Clint and Natasha out the door again.

"James, what -" Natasha tried, but Bucky shushed her. 

"Mate," Clint then tried, but Bucky just grinned and shook his head. 

"Bring him over any time you like, it was fun and great and I'll watch him any time," Bucky said, gathering up James' things and stuffing them into the baby bag and pushing it on Clint. Bucky's voice carried all the way through to the studio. "But! For now Steve and I have something to celebrate. See you guys later! Bye!"

"James -"

"I'll tell you later. _Safe trip home_ and _bye_ ," Bucky stressed and closed the door on them.

Steve turned the webcam off.

 **Steve Rogers** : I have to go, sorry!

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: Natasha went through a miscarriage when she was young. This is discussed in the fic, and Natasha is experiencing a lot of grief and fear as she goes through a second pregnancy. The second pregnancy has no complications. It's a bit heavy, as I gave Clint and Natasha more narrative space than they have previously had in the series to deal with it. Everything ends well.
> 
> Steve goes through a bad slump of depression in the second half of the fic, but it's only shown briefly.


End file.
